E 




Qass. 
Book. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 




I'ravATE F. M. MixsoN, 
Foi'tv-five yoars after the war. 



^ — • • 



Reminiscences 
ox a Private 



BY 

FRANK M. Ij^IXSON 

Company "E" let S. C. Vole. (Hagood's) 

Jenkins' Brigade Lee'e Army 

1861 1865 



1910 

The State Company 

Columbia, S. C. 



PREFACE 

In the summer of 1865 I first met Frank M, 
Mixson, the writer of these reminiscences. He was 
then a boy of eighteen summers, with four years of 
continuous service in the army of the Confederate 
States to his credit. 

In that depressing time, when the old civilization 
of the South had been prostrated by the cyclone of 
war, when every hope seemed forever gone from 
the sky of the darkened future, he was full of the 
steady, unflinching courage of the Confederate 
Veteran, looking with unwavering faith to the 
resurrection that loyalty to principle, trust in the 
right and confidence in the destiny of the Anglo- 
Saxon would assure in the peace of the patient com- 
ing years. 

Heroes of the Lost Cause were not then so scarce 
as now, and from time to time many of the older 
comrades of the boy soldier told me of his deeds of 
cool daring on the battle line, of mischievous life 
in the winter bound camps or on the weary march. 

And so the years passed, but they did not dim the 
memories of those who had touched elbows with 
him from Charleston to Appomattox. 

At my insistant request, he, now graying with 
years, wrote for publication in my paper these 
reminiscences, as told by the winter fireside to the 
grandchildren gathered under his roof tree in the 
holiday time. As I read them, feeling their pathos, 
realizing their value as giving pictures of the great 



PREFACE 

conflict that no other actor in that red drama had 
penned or voiced, the thought mastered me that 
these memories were worthy of a larger audience 
than I could reach and that from the Lakes to the 
Gulf, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, they should 
find as equal welcome, rouse as equal interest in 
homes of the victors by the stars and stripes as 
among the conquered ones whose flag had been for- 
ever furled. So these reminiscences are given to 
the broader world just as he wrote them with the 
hand that knew better the handling of the musket 
than the holding of the pen. 

Not a word or a syllable have I changed, not a 
thought have I suggested. 

To those who read his plain, unvarnished story 
there will come a fuller understanding of the spirit 
of the old South than the cultured historians have 
written. The heart and hope of Dixie are laid bare 
to sight and feeling, the courage and endurance of 
the legions of Lee and Jackson, the patient, uncom- 
plaining consecration of the women who kept the 
homes and fed and clothed the thin lines that so 
long held back such invincible odds. All in all, it 
is the best book of the many that I have read touch- 
ing the War Between the States. It gives an insight 
into the life and character of the Southern soldier 
that must appeal to every human heart not dead to 
chivalry and must win from those who were the 
bitterest foes of the South and its peculiar institu- 
tions a higher respect for and admiration of those 
once their enemies, but who have cast all hate from 
their hearts. It is a true history. I have verified 



PREFACE 



by the testimony of as good men as breathe the air 
of South Carolina the truth and accuracy of the 
events described. 

Faithful as a soldier in the brave young morn- 
ing of his life, Private Mixson has in the afternoon 
of his years rendered a noble service to the South he 
loved so well and the cause he served as becomes a 
modern knight. 

John W. Holmes, 
Editor of The People. 

Barnwell, S. C, March 5, 1910. 



CHAPTER I. 

The author of these Reminiscences (F. M. Mix- 
son) was born at Barnwell Court House, South 
Carolina, on the 5th day of December, 1846. I was 
the nineteenth and youngest child of Wm. J. and 
Sarah Ann Mixson. My father died when I was 
about six years old, leaving my mother a large 
family to see after. My father, Wm. J. Mixson, was 
recognized as one of the best men of Barnwell Dis- 
trict and had the reputation of being one of the 
most truthful and honest and best men of the State. 
He was familiarly known in the District as "Uncle 
Billy," and his word was always taken without 
dispute. My mother, before her marriage, was 
Sarah Ann Johnston, from the lower part of Bam- 
well District, now Hampton County. She was 
highly connected with the best people of the lower 
section of the State. She was a woman of great 
business capacity, being very energetic, fine business 
ability and quite industrious. They married quite 
young and raised a large family. 

Of my parents' families I know very little. My 
father had four brothers — Joyce, Charles, Archie 
and Miles — all of whom lived in the lower part of 
Barnwell District, between Johnston's Landing and 
Matthews' Bluff, on the Savannah River. They all 
had good sized families. Early in the 1850's they 
all moved to Florida with their families and that 



11 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

State is now thickly populated with Mixsons and 
Mixson descendants. Father also had four sisters. 
Aunt Experience married Ben Brown and after- 
wards Fogler. Aunt Susan also married a Brown 
(Josiah). Aunt Levisy married Robert Kirkland, 
of Buford's Bridge, and Aunt Hanson married 
James Darlington, of the Cypress Chapel section. 
All of these had families and were well to do in 
this world's goods. 

My mother had, so far as I am informed, two 
brothers — Uncle Joe Johnston being the eldest. 
He remained in the State, his home being in the 
upper part of Beaufort District, now Hampton 
County. He, too, was well off in this world's goods. 
He at one time represented his District in the Legis- 
lature. In those times travel was not like now. 
When Uncle Joe would leave home for Columbia, 
the capital, he would mount one horse, his negro 
boy another with the hand-bag of wearing apparel. 
It would take them some three days to make the 
trip. Then was the time when the State House 
was a small wooden building situated on the 
same grounds as now. The only place the mem- 
bers and public had to stop and put up was at 
Granby's — a high bluff on the Congaree River, 
about two and a half miles from the present State 
House, where there was a boarding house. Uncle 
Ben Johnston moved to Shreveport, La., before the 
war and amassed quite a fortune. Mother had three 
sisters — Aunt Charlotte married Amos Smart, Aunt 
Jerusha married Henry Best — both of the Allen- 

12 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

dale section — and Aunt Elizabeth married 

Worton, of Bainbridge, Ga. At the death of my 
father, mother immediately administered on the 
estate and she decided it best to take her share and 
have the children's portion put in the hands of 
guardians; consequently, she had everything sold, 
including about sixty-five negroes. This being con- 
verted into money, the guardians of those under age 
were placed in charge of it for their respective 
charges. 

It happened to my fortunate lot to have as my 
guardian the Hon. James J. Wilson, then State 
Senator, and at that time a practicing attorney at 
the Barnwell Bar. He, however, did not remain 
long in Barnwell after taking me in charge, but 
returned to his plantation on the Four Mile section 
of Barnwell District, near the Savannah River, 
which is now the Ellenton section. I went with 
him and regarded that my home and was treated as 
a child by both Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, they having 
no children of their own except a grown son of 
Mr. Wilson's by a former marriage. I would 
occasionally go down to Barnwell to visit my 
mother and family, sometimes remaining for several 
weeks. I was truly fortunate in falling into the 
hands of these good people. Mr. Wilson was one 
of the best Christian gentlemen I have ever known, 
and during the many years I remained with him I 
never saw nor heard any word or act but that 
bespoke the true Christian, honest and lovable 
man ; and Mrs., Wilson, too, was as kind as a mother 

13 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

to me, a good woman in every sense, but who spoiled 
me with kindness. I cannot, even now at sixty-four 
years of age, forget their parental care and kind- 
ness to me. They have long ago gone to their 
reward, a place of peace and rest prepared for such 
as they were and so richly deserved by them. 

The first year of Mr. Wilson's guardianship of 
me we spent in Barnwell. I was then quite young, 
but to keep me out of mischief, I suppose, I was 
sent to school in the village. This school was pre- 
sided over by a Mr. ,JL- Melville Myers, who taught 
in Barnwell for maiiy' years and died there at an 
advanced age. 

On going up to the plantation on the Four Mile I 
did nothing for some time, but finally a new school 
house was built by the neighborhood — the Bushes, 
Dunbars, Williams, Newmans, Wilsons, and per- 
haps one or two others, and a Mr. R. H. Alfred, a 
Campbellite preacher, was engaged to take us in 
charge. Mr. Alfred was a fine scholar and teacher, 
and a perfect gentleman. This school house was 
built about four miles from my home and I had to 
walk alon^. This would seem hard these times, but 
then it was not so much. This school ran for more 
than a year, when, for some cause, it closed. In the 
meantime, my mother had sold out her belongings 
in Barnwell and purchased a plantation ten miles 
above Barnwell, on the Hamburg Road, and known 
then and now as Joyce's Branch. 

In the summer of 1860, there being no school on 
the Four Mile, and my sister Sarah, now Mrs. Rich- 

14 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

mond, of Atlanta, having a school at Joyce's Branch 
Church, I went down home and went to school to 
her; but she gave up the school in the fall and 
was succeeded by Mr. McBride, an old teacher of 
much note, who had taught so long that he knew 
every sum in the Arithmetic by heart. At this time 
came the excitement of secession, minute men, war 
and the big comet — all on us at one time. I had no 
time for anything else, and attended every meeting 
of every kind. A company of minute men was 
organized with Dr. Frederick as Commander. This 
I joined, though not yet fourteen years old. We 
had our meetings every Saturday at Fred Killings- 
worth's, near Cypress Chapel Church, for the pur- 
pose of drill and to talk over the events that were 
happening and things we knew would happen in 
the very near future. I tell you, I was proud of my 
cockade and wore it on every occasion. This com- 
pany was not formed with the idea of going into 
service as a company, but for the purpose of meet- 
ing together, talk over matters and keep enthused. 
I am proud to say, however, that when the call 
was made to enlist in companies that every mem- 
ber of our Minute Men responded like patriots and 
joined some command. I had then reached about 
fourteen years, and, while I had been admitted a 
member of the Minute Men, there was no company 
that was being organized that would consent to 
take me in, especially as I could not get the consent 
of my mother and Mr. Wilson. This, however, did 
not dampen my enthusiasm, for I just knew if I 

15 



or A TWMWJom 

did not get tli»e on tnne the Ymnkees would ^Uck'^ 
ii# m 9Aort order^ hence, I detennined to go when- 
ever the tro(^ were ordered out, consent or no 
cuisent. 

About the fiist of the year 1 ^ I jned to the 
Foot MDe^ I foond that d e at mr 

mothers a joong j^Tsiciaii— 1 ^ -"'r^er 

— liad kxaled in that secti: ard 

at our house: and also ~ : !Mrs, 

had latdr come to stud - Y.- ^ I 

made f^st friends w: 
espedalhr Dr. Bdlinger. Mr. :^: 
the nan:€ ?f thr : — ^^ - F . 

to do. ir i I r _ _ : r 

instTUcr: 7^:7—^ = 

also sl&7 _ ^ _I ^ : 

withou: _ "Jiat Xicboison and I w^Tt t Terr 

best of : T"-e war talk : ":-" ~ 

panics'^-. - _ riised- NicL - :_ . ^ 
a eonpanj bemg raised by Capt. Wm. J. Crawley. 
This oompany was assigned to H<do(Mnbe Legion 
when ordoed out. I do not ranemba' the date, 
but tiie company was <»dered to report and get 
together at Williston, S. C. at a certain time. I 
s^gpt with XidM>]s(Mi his last night iMMne. and next 
■mrnii^ I arose before daylight, without break- 
£ist €ir anything to eat, with no clothing — ^with 
but CBthusiaan. I headed off fn* WiDiston. 
of twenty-seven miles, a- foot. I expected, 
howercr, that die wagons containing the men would 



■EKEHlBCBarGBB OF A FKITATZ 

overtake me dnrin^ the morning. I had gotten 
perhaps as far as three miks on my way, walking 
leisurely along, meditadng on the life of a addier, 
the many battles I would be in. the gallant deeds I 
would do, and, abore all, the host of Yankees I 
would kill and put to fli^t, when I heard the tramp 
of a hor5ie"= fe^t coming up from the rear. I 
intuitiTely knew what it was, but, deigning to 
look back. I continued my onward course. The 
horseman soon overtook me, and. riding by me until 
he got to a pine stump on the side of the road, he 
rode up to it and waited for me, and <m my 
approach, he (Mr. Wilson) said, ^Kjet up," whidi 
I did. and we retraced our way for home. X'ot 
another word but ^get up~ was said daring the 
whole time, I felt that I was being badly treated, 
and I had the sulks, and ^Ir. Wilson, in the good- 
ness of his heart, spared me the hTnnility of a lec- 
ture. 

There were other c*:: _ : 

were to form Hagoods x^i^i m _ 
it was not many days before they. : ~ t . 

to rendezvous at Orangeburg. S- C. I - 
meantime gone down to my n: "h-r- . '. 

the best thing for me was to ^ 

This she did. I had been : ~ : .: ^y a few days 
— perhaps only two days — ~ i :: "^ - " — in^ a 
wagon came along loaded ~ ' : ~iy 

to Barnwell to join Hagoc re 

to Orang^bnrg. where the _ ' 

South Carolina Volunteers _ _ , .^ 

17 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

nothing less than drive my horse in a fence, jam and 
load myself on that wagon. Arriving at Barnwell, 
Johnson Hagood met us, and, looking us over, he 
spied me and said, "Frank, go back home. Too 
small now; you will do later." There was nothing 
else for me to do but get back again. This was 
some time about the first of April, 1861. About 
two months after this, I could just stand it no 
longer, and off I go again without saying a word 
to any one. I went to Charleston and over to the 
Regiment and joined Company I, commanded by 
Capt. J. J. Brabham, in which my brother, J. S. 
Mixson, was First Lieutenant. When Hagood saw 
me down there he again ordered me home, and I 
told him I had already joined. Besides, if he drove 
me away I would go somewhere else and join. He 
let up, and I was happy beyond measure. The regi- 
ment at that time was only twelve months' troops, 
and during the fall and winter the reorganization 
for the war commenced. In the reorganization Com- 
pany I became Company C, with B. B. Kirkland as 
Captain. My brother, J. S., did not re-enlist, but 
went to a cavalry company serving on the coast and 
became Quartermaster Sergeant of the regiment. 
I remained with Company C for over a year, when 
Ely My rick, of Company E, and I exchanged, he 
going to Company C, Capt. Kirkland, and I to 
Company E, Capt. Wood. There was in Company 
E my eldest brother, Joyce, between whom and 
myself there were seventeen children — ^his son, 
G. D. Mixson, and two Nelson boys, who were 

18 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

my nephews, all of whom were several years 
older than I. We were stationed on Coles Island 
during the winter of 1861, but after the reorgan- 
ization we were moved to James Island and 
remained there till we were ordered to Vir- 
ginia. Brother John and his two sons, Elliott and 
Adrian, re-enlisted in Hunter's Company, Lamar's 
Second Artillery, and remained in South Carolina 
and saw hard service on James Island. While on 
James Island I would get a pass to Charleston 
whenever I could and spend the day with my sister 
Susan, who was Sister Mary Magdeline, in the 
Sisters of Mercy, and on every visit I was treated 
right royally by them. I remember that before 
leaving for Virginia my sister placed something 
around my neck, and until the string wore out and 
I lost it I was never hurt, but the first fight I went 
into after losing this I was wounded. 



19 



CHAPTER 11. 

I failed to mention that before the reorganization 
of the regiment for the war Johnson Hagood had 
been promoted to Brigadier General and was in com- 
mand on James Island; and I also failed to say 
that James Hagood, a Citadel boy of about 17% 
years, and a brother of the General, had come over 
to James Island and joined Company C, Capt. B. B. 
Kirkland, as a private. We were taken over to 
Charleston and encamped on the Citadel Green, pre- 
paratory to leaving for Virginia. Just after getting 
over to Charleston I was taken with "low country 
fever," and was sent up to the hospital in Augusta, 
Ga. Old Dr. Ford was in charge of the hospital, 
which was the old Eagle and Phoenix Hotel. I was 
up there about three weeks when I heard that the 
regiment had left Charleston for Virginia. I 
immediately went to Dr. Ford and asked for a dis- 
charge from the hospital and transportation to 
Richmond, where I hoped to overtake them. He 
tried to dissuade me from leaving, and offered me 
a permanent place under him, but I did not go into 
service to hang up in hospitals, consequently, I 
declined and got my discharge and transportation 
and took the first train going North. I was alone — 
had never been out of the State, except to Augusta — 
a mere kid of a boy. I can tell you, I felt mighty 
lonesome. Besides, I was afraid that the regiment 

20 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

would get so far ahead of me that I would not 
overtake them before they got to the fighting 
ground. I felt that if the regiment did get in a 
fight without me I would forever be disgraced, no 
matter the reason. Fortunately, just before reach- 
ing Kichmond I ran up on Dr. Martin Bellinger, our 
surgeon, who had been looking after some sick 
before leaving Charleston, and who, too, had got 
behind. We got to Eichmond about four days after 
the regiment had left for Manassas. Dr. Bellinger's 
horse was there, but I had to take it a-foot and 
alone, except some stragglers, like myself, none of 
whom, however, did I know, as they were not from 
our regiment. Dr. Bellinger, in Kichmond, took me 
to the Spotswood Hotel and gave me dinner, after 
which we both left to overtake our men. It was 
just outside the city when the doctor rode away 
from me. I felt that I was deserted by everybody 
and disgraced if I let the regiment get into a fight 
before I reached them. I traveled that night until 
about midnight, when I lay down by the roadside 
and slept till sunrise. I again pulled out and kept 
on the go. By this time the rations that I had 
slipped into my haversack at the Spotswood were 
gone. I did not know how I would get something to 
eat from then on. In passing by a pasture I saw 
four or five sheep. I loaded my musket, took delib- 
erate aim at one not more than twenty steps off, fired 
and missed. I shot at this old fellow not less than 
five times and gave it up in disgust. That evening, 
just before sundown, I ran across a large, fat hog. 

21 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

I know it could not have weighed less than three 
hundred pounds. I was hungry good by this time, 
and I was determined to have meat. I loaded up 
and first fire brought her down. I then skinned 
and cut off a ham, and going perhaps a mile fur- 
ther, I stopped for the night at a spring by the road- 
side. The balance of the hog I left where she fell; 
but as I had passed so many stragglers I know she 
did not spoil, for they, like myself, were hungry. 
I feasted that night on broiled ham — no salt, no 
bread, hut it was good. This ham lasted me until 
I overtook the wagon train, which was about six 
miles in rear of the regiment, or, I may say now, the 
army. I overtook these wagons in camp about 
twelve o'clock at night and I stopped to camp. I 
was very much surprised to be awakened perhaps an 
hour before day by the firing of cannon and small 
arms ahead. I could not remain longer. I got up 
and headed for the front. Not being experienced in 
warfare at that time, I had no idea that the firing 
on the front was exceeding three miles at most, but 
when I came to travel it I found that after I had 
gone at least six miles I had only reached the loca- 
tion of the field hospital. Here again I ran upon 
Dr. Bellinger, he having very little help, and with a 
desire to care for me, as he saw that I was about 
broken down, he ordered me to remain to assist with 
the wounded, who had begun to come in. I pro- 
tested, but he held firm and I was soon at work. 
The duty demanded of me by Dr. Bellinger was to 
assist in the examinations and amputations, and 

22 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

many a poor fellow did I hold while his leg or arm 
was taken off. I was shocked at the number of our 
regiment brought back killed and wounded. Men 
whom I had only a few weeks before left in Charles- 
ton in the best of health and spirits, some dead, 
others wounded. I could hardly realize such car- 
nage. Over half of the regiment was killed and 
wounded. I remained with Dr. Bellinger until the 
wounded were all disposed of, when he let me go. I 
overtook the regiment just after they crossed the 
Potomac River into Maryland. Our regiment left 
Charleston and went into the Manassas fight with 
Thos. J. Glover, of Orangeburg, Colonel; Wm. H. 
Duncan, of Barnwell, Lieutenant-Colonel; Daniel 
H. Livingston, of Orangeburg, Major; Wm. J. 
Wood, of Steel Creek, Adjutant; Mortimer Glover, 
of Orangeburg, Sergeant-Major; Captain Warren 
B. Flowers, of Baldoc, Quartermaster; (I cannot 
recollect now who was the Commissary) ; Dr. 
Martin Bellinger, of Four Mile, Surgeon ; Dr. Wm. 
S. Stoney, of Allendale, Assistant Surgeon. The 
Company Commanders were: Company A, Capt. 

Isaac Bamberg, Bamberg; Company B, Capt. 

Wannamaker, Orangeburg; Company C, Capt. 
B. B. Kirkland, Buford's Bridge; Company D, 
Capt. Robt. L. Crawford, Marion; Company E, 
Capt. Jno. H. Thompson, Upper Three Runs ; Com- 
pany F, Capt. T. D. Gwinn, Greenville; Company 
G, Capt. J. G. Grimes, Bamberg; Company H, Capt. 
John C. Winsmith, Spartanburg; Company I, 
Capt. Jas. H. Stafford, Marion; Company K, Capt. 

23 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Knotts, Orangeburg. The lieutenants of the 

companies I cannot recollect. Gus Hagood, of 
Barnwell, was color bearer. This is about the man- 
ner our regiment was officered on reaching Lee's 
army, and was assigned to Hood's Texas Brigade. 
We went into the Second Manassas about forteen 
hundred strong. It seemed to me that every minute 
there was some poor fellow brought back. Col. 
Glover was killed outright. Maj. Livingston 
wounded slightly; Adjutant Wood wounded; Capt. 
Bamberg, of Company A, wounded; Capt. Wanna- 
maker, Company B, wounded; Capt. Kirkland, 
Company C, wounded; Capt. Crawford, Company 
D, wounded; Capt. Thompson, Company E, killed; 
Capt. Gwinn, Company F, wounded; Capt. Grimes, 
Company G, wounded; Capt. Winsmith, Company 
H, wounded ; Capt. Stafford, Company I, wounded ; 
Capt. Knotts, Company K, wounded. Besides these 
nearly all the lieutenants were either killed or 
wounded and about one-half, at least, of the regi- 
ment. You will therefore see that our regiment 
suffered very heavily. Our colors, they say^ went 
down seven times. First, Gus Hagood was shot 
through the body, and Dr. Bellinger passed a silk 
handkerchief entirely through his body, taking hold 
of each end and wiping out the blood. He got well, 
but was never fit for service again. As Hagood fell 
with the colors, Gus Eaves, from Bamberg, one of 
the color guards, rushed to them and raised them 
aloft. In a few minutes his right arm was torn to 
splinters. Immediately they were seized by another, 

24 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

and this was continued until the eighth man bore 
them through. The fight continued from early 
morning till night, when the army camped on the 
battlefield, ready to renew next morning; but next 
morning the enemy had disappeared. We had been 
driving them all day. Our regiment made charge 
after charge, and at one time during the day in 
making a charge and in passing over some wounded 
Yankees, one inquired, "What regiment is that?" 
and on being told "the First S. C. V.," he said, 

"You all are the d st fools I ever saw ; you have 

been whipped all day." 

Nothing being in our front next day to hinder us, 
we arranged — each company — for its senior officers 
to command, in a great many instances, non-com- 
missioned officers taking command, and we went on 
a chase into Maryland. Lieut.-Col. Duncan assumed 
command of the regiment and Maj. Livingston, who 
was only slightly hurt, returned to us just as we 
crossed the Potomac River. The first place I recollect 
after getting into Maryland was Frederick City. 
As we passed through the town everybody was out 
to see us ; streets crammed, doors and windows full ; 
some cheering and waving Confederate flags ; others 
jeering us and waving United States flags. We 
went through the town in a "hurrah" and let them 
know that we knew we had just given the Yankee 
army a good licking at Manassas and were ready 
for them again. Just after crossing into Maryland 
Lieut.-Col. Duncan, who was commanding our 
regiment since the killing of Col. Glover at 

25 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Manassas, was taken sick and went back into an 
ambulance, but did not leave us entirely until we 
again crossed the Potomac back into Virginia, when 
he got a sick furlough and went home to Barnwell. 
This left the command of the regiment to Maj. Liv- 
ingston. I was then Orderly for the colonel, which 
required me to be at regimental headquarters and 
around the regimental commander at all times and 
to extend his private orders and commands. In this 
position I was not required to carry a gun, and it 
was well for me that I was so exempted, for I could 
never have made the marching had I been loaded 
down. Before crossing into Maryland the entire 
army were ordered to leave all their baggage, and 
on this trip we had nothing but a haversack, can- 
teen and a blanket or oil cloth, besides the accoutre- 
ments — gun, cartridge box and scabbard. You will 
see from this that we were prepared for quick 
marching. 



26 



CHAPTER III. 

AVe took the turnpike from Frederick City to 
Hagerstown, and along the route we passed many 
an orchard heavily laden with fine apples and many 
corn fields with luscious roasting ears; but we were 
not allowed to gather a thing and rations were 
short. But at every cross road we would find a lot 
of ladies with tables set with something to eat and 
coffee and buckets of water. It was impossible for 
them to feed us all, but what they did do helped out 
considerably and was highly appreciated. We 
passed through Hagerstown at midday and went 
into camp in an oak grove some two miles beyond 
the town. In passing through Hagerstown all the 
stores remained open and none of the citizens seemed 
to be in the least uneasy. As we were going down 
the street we saw a corner store with the sign 
"Hager's Store." Standing in the doors of this 
store were a lot of women and some children. 
Among them was a young girl some sixteen years 
old, who was waving a United States flag and taunt- 
ing us with "Why don't you fight under this flag?" 
Some fellow in ranks remarked, "Hagerstown, 
Hager's store, Hager's daughter— hurrah for 
Hager," and, as was the custom, we gave them the 
yell. We remained in this grove outside the town 
until the next day after midday, when the "long 
roll" called us to "fall in." We were again marched 
through the town, this time in a douUe quick, and 
took the turnpike for Boonesboro Gap, where we 

27 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

could hear heavy musketry and cannonading going 
on. It was about sixteen miles from where we were 
camped to the gap, and as we were needed there 
badly we double quicked nearly the entire distance. 
Of course, we were stopped a few minutes at inter- 
vals to rest and catch our breath. It seems that this 
gap was the only way we had to get back into Vir- 
ginia, and the Yankees were trying to hold this 
against us. Had they succeeded in doing this, Lee's 
army would be trapped, but our troops held them at 
bay until Jenkins' Brigade got there about deep 
dusk. We found our troops hard pressed on the side 
of the mountains only a few hundred yards from the 
pass. We were immediately put into position and 
relieved those who had been fighting all day. Our 
orders were to hold our position or die. After being 
in position here for some little time and holding 
the enemy back, an officer rode up to near where 
Maj. Livingston and I were and asked for the com- 
manding officer. I hollered out, "Here he is." He 
told Maj. Livingston that the enemy were being 
reinforced and would charge us very shortly, and to 
save the pass long enough for our army to succeed 
in getting by, that we would charge first — that the 
orders to charge had been extended on our right and 
all movements would be taken up from the right. 
Maj. Livingston turned to me and said, "Frank, 
tell Company A to move as the regiment on its right 
moves, and come on down the line and tell each 
company commander to move as the right moves." 
I had hardly got the orders extended before I heard 

28 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

the command, "Company A, forward," "Company 
B, forward." And on down the line. We were in 
for it sure, and away we went — into a blaze of mus- 
ketry which lighted us on our way. We drove them 
back some little distance and held our gain long 
enough for the rear of our army to pass through, 
when we again heard the right extending orders. 
This time I heard, "Company A in retreat," "Com- 
pany B in retreat," and it was not long before we 
were going through the gap — the last of the army to 
pass through. We found a relief for us when we 
got through, which held them back till we were safe 
on our road to Sharpsburg, which we reached some 
time late in the afternoon, after having been fight- 
ing nearly all night and marching since noon the 
day before. On reaching Sharpsburg we were 
stopped in an apple orchard (our regiment) and 
we fared well. We remained in this orchard that 
night, all next day and night. The second morning 
about sunrise the Yankees opened their artillery 
from the heights on us, and it seemed as if they had 
placed all the cannon in the world up there ; it was 
certainly the heaviest and most terrific artillery 
firing during the entire war, and has gone down in 
history as such. Fortunately for us we were in a 
bottom and the worst of the shells went over us, but 
not all. We had a good many hurt while in this 
position. Our batteries were on the hill above us 
and were responding all they could. About 8 
o'clock we were ordered up the hill to protect our 
batteries ; the enemy were charging them. We went 

29 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

up the hill at a double quick. Our regiment was on 
the left of the brigade and we were going left in 
front, which put us to the front. I was trotting 
by the side of Maj. Livingston amid a furor of 
bursting shells. About half way up the bill Maj. 
Livingston called to me, saying, "Lead on, Frank, 
I am wounded." I called to Capt. Knotts, who was 
the senior captain present, and told him to take 
command of the regiment. We got in position on 
the hill in rear of a plank fence and were told not 
to fire a shot till ordered to do so. While lying 
behind the fence the Yankees were making their 
charge and coming down the opposite hill in as 
pretty a line as on dress parade. In front of us, 
and about midway, there was a stone fence in 
another apple orchard. The Yankees were making 
for this fence, and, as I said before, were moving 
on it at a double quick and a regular dress parade 
line. The old captain commanding our batteries had 
shot himself out of balls, and, all his horses being 
killed, he ordered his men to cut off the trace chains. 
With these he loaded his pieces and fired. It seemed 
that as the chains reached the ranks they spread 
themselves out full length and cut their way broad- 
side through. The old captain jumped up, yelled, 
and ordered another load, with about the same 
result. This was done several times, and finally the 
column began to waver and weaken. At this point 
a Yankee colonel rode to the front with drawn 
sword and rallied his men, who were about to give 
way. Just then I said to Kite Folk, from Bam- 

30 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

berg, a boy like myself, but a year or two older, "Let 
us shoot him." I picked up a gun lying near me and 
Kite and I put our guns through the fence and fired 
together. The colonel fell and was carried from the 
field. The enemy fell back, but very soon came 
again. Forty-two years after this occurrence I was 
running the Hotel Aiken. I was telling of this inci- 
dent one evening when a guest of the house, who 

had registered as Johnson, said he knew 

the circumstance perfectly — that he was the major 
of that regiment and when the colonel was killed, as 
stated, he took command and received his promotion 
as lieutenant-colonel; that it was he who led them 
back in the second charge. When the enemy made 
this second charge we, too, made a charge, and the 
stone fence, spoken of before, being about equal 
distance from each of us, it was a race, who and 
who. We won the race, and when we fell in behind 
the fence the Yankees were not more than fifteen 
steps away; but it was not long before they had 
moved off, leaving a good crowd behind lying on the 
field. Could one have been so situated on one of 
these hills with nothing to do but witness the two 
forces making for that fence, the Yankees coming 
down the hill on their side, moving in line as if on 
drill, determination on their faces and a quick, 
steady step without a falter or a quaver — on the 
other hill a lot of dirty, hungry, footsore, naked 
and barefoot men lying behind that plank fence 
awaiting orders. Soon the order came, and we were 
told to get to that stone fence. No line for us. 

31 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Darling Patterson, of Barnwell, was our color 
bearer, and he led off with our flag waving over- 
head. The men followed, each one doing all he 
could to get there first. We beat them to it, and 
when Patterson stuck his flag staff into the ground 
we had the fence, and too well did they know it. We 
tore loose into them, they not being more than 
fifteen steps distant. They could not stand it — ^they 
broke in confusion and retired in about the same 
order that we had advanced; but they were soon 
rallied and we had it hot for some time. The fence, 
however, was a great protection to us. 

We were well protected by our stone fence in the 
apple orchard, but the enemy kept us pretty well 
engaged in our front, and we had no time to look 
around and see how other parts of our line were 
doing. We had been fighting behind this fence for 
perhaps two or three hours when I was surprised on 
looking around to see a long Georgia captain run- 
ning from where we had come in the morning, and 
coming directly to me. I was then standing up under 
an apple tree eating an apple. On reaching me he 
said, "Where is your gun, and why are you not 
shooting?" I replied, "I am the colonel's orderly," 
He then asked for the colonel. I told him that the 
regiment was right then without any one to com- 
mand it. He told me to get them back — the entire 
line had fallen back to our previous position — that 
we were the only ones so advanced, and to look to 
the right, coming from the direction of the barn, 
and I would see we were about already surrounded. 

32 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

I yelled out, "First South Carolina, retreat," and I 
led off. The enemy were so close in our rear when 
we left the fence that we had to run around the 
head of their column^ but every man succeeded in 
passing around them. But then we had a long, 
sloping hill to go up — nothing to break the view — 
an open field. Away we went, and while I was doing 
all I knew how in the way of running, and when 
I had about covered half the distance back, I ran 
up on Talt Best, from Allendale, lying flat on his 
back, shot through the thigh. He had lain there for 
several hours, being shot down when we advanced. 
Talt was holding out his arms and asked me pite- 
ously, "Frank, don't leave me here to die." It looked 
like death to me to stop, but I could not resist the 
appeal. I stooped down, raised him up. Just then 
Sid Key, from Joyce's Branch, ran up and I asked 
Sid to help me get Talt off. We got him back to 
our former line, where we turned him over to the 
litter bearers, and we got to our positions. We had 
not been there over five minutes when Sid Key was 
shot. We received orders to prepare to advance, and 
I recollect Lieut. Jack Stansell, of Company E, 
waving his sword, cried out, "Forward, Company 
E." After repeating this several times and getting 
no response he discovered that he had but one man 
left in Company E, Arthur Tompson, of Elko. He 
then cried, "Forward, Thompson, go it, Thompson." 
Almost simultaneously a minnie ball passed through 
Thompson's body and a piece of shell hit Lieut. 
Stansell on the side of the knee. Both were carried 
off, and they were the last men of Company E. 

33 
3— R. p. 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

After getting quieted down enough to look around 
I commenced to see who we could get to take com- 
mand of the regiment. I have already told you that 
Capt. Knotts was placed in command when Maj. 
Livingston told me he was woimded. I could not 
find Capt. Knotts, nor had seen him the whole time 
of our advance while we were holding the stone 
fence. I think I may have failed to say heretofore 
that Jim Hagood had been appointed sergeant- 
major to fill the place of Mortimer Glover, of 
Orangeburg. In looking around for a regimental 
commander I discovered that there was only one 
commissioned officer left in the regiment. This 
officer was Lieut. Sweat, of Bamberg. I told him 
he would have to command the regiment, being the 
only officer. He refused to do so, and, after some 
thought, he told me to go to Sergt.-Major Jim 
Hagood and tell him to assume command. This I 
did, and Jim Hagood, a non-commissioned officer 
and an eighteen-year-old boy, took the command. 

We held our ground the balance of the day and 
that night, and about daybreak next morning we 
passed through Sharpsburg and recrossed the 
Potomac into Virginia. While we were holding our 
ground on the battlefield about midnight the cooks 
came up with some cooked rations. Hagood sent 
me to ascertain how many men each company had 
left, so as to divide equally. I recollect Company 
E had not one and Company F only one. So, you 
see, we were right badly used up. 



34 



CHAPTER IV. 

After holding our ground and showing our enemy 
that we were not beaten at Sharpsburg, we left the 
battlefield in broad daylight and leisurely took our 
way to the Potomac and recrossed into Virginia. We 
stopped over at Martinsburg and then went on, and 
went into camp at the Big Spring, near Winchester, 
where we remained for three or four weeks. Here 
our baggage came to us and it was refreshing to get 
into clean clothes once more. While here a good 
many of our sick and slightly wounded returned to 
us, among whom was Maj. Livingston, who relieved 
Sergt.-Major Hagood in commanding the regiment. 
Nothing unusual occurred during our stay at the 
Big Spring, only that it was a good country to 
forage in and we usually had enough to eat and 
sometimes some apple jack to wash it down. After 
we had been at the Big Spring for several weeks, 
and the army had increased considerably, we were 
taken on a forced march and carried to Culpeper 
Court House. Here we remained for several weeks, 
again getting in more men who had recovered from 
wounds and sickness. 

At this place Sergt.-Major Jas. Hagood was made 
adjutant. While remaining over here we had drills 
and dress parade every day and rested up pretty 
well. One day I got a pass to go over to Culpeper 
and took it up to brigade headquarters to have it 

35 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

countersigned. When Adjutant-General K. M. 
Simms saw my name he asked me if I knew Seth 
Mixson, of Barnwell, and when I said "He is my 
brother," Gen. Jenkins asked where he was. I told 
him on the coast. Gen. Jenkins then told me to 
write him. If he would accept he would have him 
appointed colonel of our regiment. You can imagine 
I was very much elated at this and wrote him 
immediately. In a short time I received a reply 
saying, "Tell Micah Jenkins I am quartermaster- 
sergeant of a cavalry regiment on the coast and 
would not give it for a major-general in Lee's 
army." I was completely disgusted with the answer 
and never delivered it to Gen. Jenkins. 

It was here that Col. Coward took command of 
the Fifth South Carolina. I recollect how game he 
looked. He had the regiment formed for dress 
parade. He was dressed in a brand new suit, 
polished high top boots, shining spurs and bright 
sword. He did not weigh over one hundred and 
twenty pounds, but he looked game. He had the 
orders read appointing him colonel, and then he told 
the men that he was now their colonel and would 
be respected as such; he would not tell them to go 
only as he led them. Wlien he got through his talk 
the Fifth knew they had a colonel, and after-events 
proved it, for from then on the Fifth was one of the 
best regiments in our brigade. Before leaving here 
Lieut.-Col. Duncan was promoted to colonel and 
Maj. Livingston to lieutenant-colonel. After some 
three weeks' stay here we were hurried over to 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Fredericksburg, reaching there in time to meet 
Hooker's advance. Upon reaching Fredericksburg 
our brigade was held in reserve for a time — in fact, 
for the entire day. About sundown we were moved 
up and relieved some troops that had been engaged, 
and we fought then nearly all night and the next 
day, until Hooker fell back across the river, leaving 
us in possession of the battlefield. After the enemy 
had recrossed the river we were taken to woods just 
off of the field, where we remained in position, 
ready for an attack at any moment, should they 
make an advance. We did not move back to these 
woods till about dark, consequently, during the 
afternoon we and the enemy were very near 
together, with the Rappahannock River only 
between us, but no fighting going on. Just before 
sundown the Yankee band came down to the river 
bank and commenced to play. Very soon our 
bands were on the bank on our side. The Yankee 
band would play the popular airs of theirs amid 
much yelling and cheering ; our bands would do the 
same with the same result. Towards the wind-up 
the Yankee band struck up "Yankee Doodle." 
Cheers were immense. When they stopped our band 
struck up "Dixie," and everything went wild. When 
they finished this, both bands, with one accord and 
simultaneously, struck up "Home, Sweet Home." 
There was not a sound from anywhere until the 
tune was finished and it then seemed as if every- 
body had gone crazy. I never saw anything to com- 
pare with it. Both sides were cheering, jumping up 

37 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

and throwing up hats and doing everything which 
tended to show enthusiasm. This lasted for at least 
a half hour. I do believe that had we not had the 
river between us that the two armies would have 
gone together and settled the war right there and 
then. I saw old weather-beaten men, naked, bare- 
footed, hungry, dirty and worn out, with tears 
streaming down their cheeks; men who were not 
afraid to leave their homes, their wives, their fam- 
ilies, their all; but men with hearts, who could not 
restrain the tears when it was so vividly brought to 
them. Their hearts were touched then, but they 
were yet men who were willing to do or die. 

As before said, the army was taken back to the 
shelter of the woods, off the field of carnage, for 
the night. Company E of our regiment was left on 
the river bank to watch the movement of the enemy. 
I was left witli them to carry any message to the 
colonel during the night, should the emergency 
arise. Some time, about two o'clock, there was 
considerable commotion in the camp of the enemy. 
Capt. Wood ordered me to report to the colonel that 
he thought they were preparing to make an advance. 
It was nearly a mile back to our line, raining and 
dark. I had to go across this battlefield alone, but 
there was no escape. I took a direct course. There 
was no woods on my way. You nor no one can 
imagine how trying it was. One second I would 
stumble over a dead man or horse, next would step 
on some poor wounded fellow, who would either 
curse me or beg piteously for water or help; next 

38 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

run on a wounded horse and run the risk of being 
kicked to death. It was fearful; but after a time I 
reached the woods and delivered my message. The 
colonel instructed me to return and keep him 
informed. I told him, and begged him not to send 
me back before daylight — / could not go; it was too 
much for me. He took pity on me and allowed me 
to remain till daylight. I do believe that had he 
insisted on my returning that night that I would 
have died before making the trip. 

There was no advance made by the enemy, but 
they moved off and went into winter quarters. This 
was the winter of 1862, and our first in Virginia; 
besides, it was a remarkably cold winter. They gave 
us little A tents, allowing six to a tent. We cut 
down trees and built up a pole house about three 
feet high, and pitched our tent on top of this, and 
when we had completed a chimney and had daubed 
the cracks with clay we had a very comfortable 
residence. Our great trouble was getting in wood; 
but we would take turn about to get in a day's 
supply. We fared very well, taking everything into 
consideration. There was a very heavy snow storm ; 
snow fell about waist deep over the whole country. 
One morning a few men commenced to snow ball. 
These were added to until the whole army was 
engaged. Brigadier-generals took command of 
their brigades ; colonels of their regiments ; captains 
of their companies. It was a regular planned battle 
and was fought all day. Sometimes one would take 
the camp of another and plunder it of blankets, 

39 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

rations, cooking utensils and whatever else there 
was. It was the biggest snow ball fight on record. 
I did not engage in the fight, but took a hand in 
plundering a camp whenever we got into one. I had 
rations for several days after this affair — rations 
taken from the fellows' dinner out of their camps. 

While here this winter we had a good many 
changes. Col. Duncan resigned and F. W. Kilpat- 
rick, of Pendleton, was made colonel. Capt. Knotts, 
of Company K, resigned, and Jim Hagood was 
made captain of his company. S. B. Clowney, of 
Fairfield, was made adjutant. O. D. Wilson, of 
Allendale, was made sergeant-major, and other 
changes in company officers which I do not recall, 
except that P. H. Wood, of Steel Creek, was made 
captain of Company E. We remained in winter 
quarters until the severe winter was over, and when 
we had recruited so that our regiment and brigade 
had gotten to be quite respectable in size. When we 
broke winter quarters we were carried down on the 
Blackwater River, in the neighborhood of Suffolk. 
I think Jenkins' Brigade was the only force carried 
down. 

Our brigade was pretty badly scattered down here 
and had to cover a big space. The regiments were 
camped some four miles apart. After remaining 
here on the Blackwater for some little time the 
brigade was consolidated, and we were moved 
down to Suffolk. Here we were in daily communi- 
cation with the enemy and our picket lines were 
only a short distance apart. While here we were 

40 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

one day asked for volunteers to go down and charge 
the gun boats. The volunteers were soon procured, 
but we wondered how infantry could charge gun 
boats. However, we went, and when we got in good 
range they opened on us with shells about the size 
of flour barrel heads. We did not make much out of 
charging gun boats. We had several engagements 
with the enemy while in this section, holding back 
any advance they prepared to make and guarding 
Richmond from this direction. While here the 
Chancellorsville fight came off and it was here that 
we heard of the killing of Stonewall Jackson. The 
Chancellorsville fight was the only fight of any note 
that we had missed since we reached Virginia. 

We remained down in this country until the 
spring had advanced and summer was about on us, 
when we were taken up to Petersburg and camped 
outside of the town and did police duty in the 
town. We were given new uniforms while here and 
fixed up in pretty good shape. Again we were for- 
tunate, for while we were remaining here Lee made 
his advance into Pennsylvania and the great battle 
of Gettysburg was fought and we lost. Just after 
this battle when Lee saw Jenkins he said to him, 
"Jenkins, if I had had your brigade at Gettysburg 
I would have won." This was high praise, but then 
we deserved it and it did not detract from any that 
were there. It was not long before we heard that 
Longstreet's corps was to go West and we got orders 
to pack up and move. We were loaded on freight 
trains in and on top of freight boxes at Petersburg, 
our brigade being the last of Longstreet's corps to 
leave. 

41 



CHAPTER V. 

Jenkins' Brigade had been at Petersburg for 
some time after coming up from around Suffolk on 
the Blackwater and elsewhere down in that section, 
when we received orders to prepare to load and ship 
for the West with the balance of Longstreet's corps. 
Our brigade, however, was the last to be loaded and 
shipped, and we finally went to the depot and were 
loaded on freight boxes, inside and outside, the top 
being as much crowded as the inside. The trains 
those days did not make as good time as today, 
and, while I do not recollect how slowly we did run, 
I do recollect that when our regiment (the First 
South Carolina Volunteers) reached Bamberg and 
found the little town all lit up with bonfires and 
tables spread and the whole country — men, women 
and children — with baskets of cold chicken, rice 
pilau, biscuits, hams, boiled eggs, fried ham, salads 
and everything else that women can get up in a 
country of plenty, awaiting us and greeting us (the 
regiment) as if we were all their brothers; it made 
us feel good; and then Col. Kilpatrick, who was in 
charge of this train, held it for about an hour to 
give us time to do justice to what was tendered us. 

Here it was that many an old fellow met his peo- 
ple for the first time since he had left them; even 
some here met their wives and children for the first 
time, and here I met one of my sisters who was vis- 

42 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

iting in the neighborhood. I had not seen any of 
them since I first went. You may talk of courage 
and a sense of duty, but when a man pulls up at a 
station at 1 o'clock at night, finds there his wife and 
children whom he has not seen for two years, and 
after about one hour to see them, to be caressed by 
them, to be allowed to talk with them, then to be 
hauled off on a freight car — perhaps the only place 
for him on top — that is manhood. But this occurred 
in Bamberg, not in one case only, but in many — 
they were men in those days. 

We passed through Denmark (then Graham's 
Turn Out), Lees, Blackville, Elko, Williston and 
White Pond. At each place some member of the 
regiment had loving friends and families, but no 
stop-over was allowed, and these old soldiers passed 
by their homes, outwardly showing cheerfulness, but 
one could discover their eyes were dim. We stopped 
over a couple of hours in Augusta, where we were 
transferred to the Georgia Road. We arrived in 
Atlanta early next morning and thence direct on to 
Chattanooga. It was right cold riding in and on top 
of freight boxes, so after leaving Atlanta we gath- 
ered some sand while the train was stopped and put 
it on the floor of the car, and on top, too, and that 
evening between sundown and dark we passed 
through Marietta with fires in and on top, cooking 
supper. We even spread down our beds on top of 
these trains and went regularly to bed. We reached 
the nearest station to Chickamauga that was in our 
possession, and were immediately unloaded and 

43 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

ordered in a double quick for the battlefield. The 
fight had been going on since early the day before 
and Longstreet's corps had reached there to be in 
time, with the exception of our brigade. There 
was hard fighting at Chickamauga, and the battle 
was won when our brigade got in at a double quick. 
The enemy were already on the run, and we, being 
fresh, there was a regular stampede. Had Bragg 
let Longstreet alone we would have run the last one 
into the Tennessee River, but Bragg held us up and 
gave them time to "catch their breath" and stop at 
Chattanooga and at the base of Lookout Mountain. 
Here we remained for the most of the fall and here 
we had the hardest service of the entire war. The 
rainy season came on — cold, sleet and snow — and the 
creeks in our rear got so swollen that we were cut 
off from our supplies. We had a tough time getting 
something to eat. So scarce were rations that some 
men in our regiment tore down barns catching rats, 
which they would boil and put in "drop dumplings" 
and did have good stews. Finally Col. Kilpatrick 
had a detail of axmen to fell trees, out of which he 
had a large raft made, and sent a detail across the 
expanse of water and brought us in meal, bacon, salt 
and whatever there was. Ours was the only regi- 
ment so fortunate. 

While here we one afternoon received orders to 
prepare for a recognizance. Our brigade was taken 
across the base of Lookout Mountain and about 
dark crossed Chattanooga Creek, into Wahatchie 
Valley, where a heavy supply train had been dis- 

44 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

covered earlier in the day. Our object was to cap- 
ture this train and bring the supplies in. After 
crossing Chattanooga Creek on a bridge, the only 
way this creek could be crossed, we were thrown into 
line of battle. Hampton Legion, Col. Gary, on the 
extreme right. Sixth South Carolina next. Fifth 
next. First next. Second next, with Palmetto 
Sharpshooters on extreme left. Capt. James 
Hagood's company. Company K, of Orangeburg, 
was deployed as skirmishers in front of our regi- 
ment. I was orderly for the colonel. We com- 
menced the advance through these woods — under- 
brush, hills, hollows and holes — and kept as quiet as 
we could. But then we made considerable fuss. After 
advancing this way for perhaps two or three miles, 
Hagood's skirmishers struck them in front of us. 
At the same time the Fifth and Sixth and the 
Legion struck them. It was so that the Legion got 
right into the train before being discovered, and 
they went to turning loose the mules and raising 
Cain in general. In front of the Fifth, First, Sec- 
ond and Sharpshooters there were no wagons. We 
had struck them but a few moments when they were 
ready to receive us, and lo and behold, we were in 
front of Hooker's army corps — one of the best corps 
of fighters in the entire Yankee army. 

Here we were in a mess. Jenkins' Brigade, com- 
posed of not more than one thousand men, con- 
fronting and attacking the strongest and best army 
corps in the Yankee service. In our advance we 
were so placed that the left of the First Regiment 

45 



REMITS ISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

was resting on the railroad, the right of the Second 
resting on the same, the railroad between us. We 
advanced till our regiment got out of the woods 
and into a field. Fighting along the entire line was 
intense and heavy; we had advanced as far as we 
could and had lain down, continuing the heavy 
fighting. After being here under one of the heaviest 
firing I ever saw for perhaps an hour, men being 
killed and wounded every second, I was lying down 
alongside Col. Kilpatrick, who was on his knees 
making observations — a minnie ball struck the 
colonel, killing him instantly, passing through his 
heart. At the very moment this occurred I heard 
someone call Lieut. Clowney, and he, leaving me, 
responded to the call. Then I saw Col. Bratton, who 
was that night commanding the brigade (Gen. Jen- 
kins acting major-general) sitting on his old gray 
horse, smoking his old meerschaum pipe. He said, 
"Clowney, where is Kilpatrick?" Clowney informed 
him that he was just then killed. Col. Bratton said, 
"Get him off the field. We are going to fall back," 
and then said, "I want a man to carry some orders 
for me." Lieut. Clowney called out, "Come here, 
Mixson." I went up to Col. Bratton and took hold 
of his horse's mane ; he looked down at me and said, 
"My little man, all the staff are either killed or 
wounded. I want some orders extended. Can you 
do it?" I replied, "I can try, colonel." He answered, 
"That is all that any of us can do. You are very 
small, but I can trust you. You must run across the 
railroad and tell Col. Bowen, of the Second, that 

46 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

we are falling back. The Legion, Sixth and Fifth 
are now moving; your regiment will fall in behind 
the Fifth, and the Second will fall in behind the 
First; and you hear that heavy firing away over 
yonder? That is the Sharpshooters. Find Col. 
Walker and tell him we are all gone — to pull off 
and get back on our trail and save himself the best 
he can. Go^ my little man.'''' 

I went up on the side of the railroad embank- 
ment; stopping a moment or two until a shell had 
passed — they were making the railroad every half 
minute — between shells I ran across and down the 
embankment and right into the arms of Col. Bowen. 
Just then one of those shells bursted and knocked 
sand over us and knocked us both down. I delivered 
my orders to him and started across the open field 
to find Col. Walker with the Sharpshooters. (You 
must not forget that all this was under a galling 
fire of musketry from 10,000 guns). I got up pretty 
close and stopped behind a persimmon tree ; it being 
dark and raining, I could not see whom I was 
approaching — it might be Yankees — but I stopped 
and called out. 

"What regiment is that?" and was told Palmetto 
Sharpshooters. Still, to make safe, I inquired, 
"Who is your colonel?" and was told Col. Walker. 
Then I ventured up and found Col. Walker, to 
whom I delivered the message. He made me tell 
him why I was carrying orders for Col. Bratton, 
and he was then satisfied that the orders were 
straight. On delivering these orders, and not real- 

47 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

izing the length of time I had been at it, I ran back 
from whence I had come. I missed the Second 
Eegiment, but took no notice of that; ran up and 
across the railroad embankment and down the other 
side. I ran into a spring about waist deep. On 
pulling out of this I discovered that the regiment 
had gone. There being no more shelling on the 
railroad I took down it in the direction I knew was 
right. I had not gone more than two hundred 
yards when I ran up with two men. I asked who 
they were, and upon their giving me the number of 
a Yankee regiment I ordered them to surrender, 
which they did, throwing down their guns. / had 
none. I then relieved them of their haversacks, 
knives and whatever else they had, and then it was 
found out that the Yankees had advanced and we 
were in their rear. But with my two prisoners I 
continued down the railroad. We had not gone 
far when we were hailed from the side of the road, 
"Who's there?" I answered, "First South Carolina 
Volunteers," when a volley was fired into us. I 
rolled down the embankment on the opposite side 
and made tracks, then turned across toward where 
I had been to hunt the Sharpshooters. What became 
of my prisoners I never knew. 

I finally got on the trail of the Sharpshooters, and 
when I struck Chattanooga Creek I found the 
brigade had recrossed and there were some of Com- 
pany E at the bridge. They had cut the bridge 
away from the bank and had it on fire; this to 
prevent the Yankees from following us, as the creek 

48 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

was impassable except at the bridge. I was here 
again in a quandary. About ten or twelve feet of the 
bridge gone, the balance on fire. Darling Sprawls, 
of Williston, came to the end on fire and told me 
to take a running jump and he would try to catch 
me. I did so, and, as luck would have it, he caught 
me and pulled me in. This got me back within our 
lines and saved me from becoming a prisoner. 



49 
-R. p. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Our brigade, or the remnant of it, reached our 
quarters some time after sunrise, and then it was 
that we commenced to realize the loss that we had 
sustained during the night in the Wahatchie Valley. 
We had lost in killed, wounded and missing over 
one-half of our number, and when we got back to 
quarters we looked "mighty scarce" and few. I 
don't recollect who among the officers of our regi- 
ment were killed besides Col. Kilpatrick, but it 
seemed as if all the regiment were gone. Only a 
few left to tell the tale. 

One of my nephews, G. D. Mixson, was missing. 
We did not know whether killed, wounded or cap- 
tured, and many other poor fellows left behind. 
Col. Bratton, having no one left on his staff, sent 
for Jim Diamond, of Company E, and took him on 
as orderly for several days. Capt. Grimes, of Com- 
pany G, Bamberg, being the senior officer, took 
command of the regiment, which left Lieut. Sweat 
in command of Company G. We did nothing after 
this escapade for some time but rest up and recruit. 
The winter was coming on now in earnest and cold 
weather and rains were upon us. One cold night I 
was short of cover, and I had to have some more 
somehow, so I went out during the dark hours. It 
was not long before I ran upon a nest of four old 
"Rebs" sleeping soundly, warm and snug. I 

50 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

cautiously crept up and found that the top blanket 
was a heavy army blanket, large and thick; I 
determined to have that blanket. So, waiting a lit- 
tle time, quietly took the corners of the blanket at 
the feet, made a good strong pull, and darted into 
the dark, off and away, before they could realize 
their loss. And the hlanket ivas mine. Many a night 
after that did that same blanket keep me warm. 

Another of my nephews, B. F. Nelson, was lost to 
us here. He was taken sick and sent off to Newnan, 
Ga., to the hospital, where he died. 

One night after dark our regiment was ordered 
to fall in, and we were carried across Peavine Creek 
to feel the enemy. We had to cross this creek on a 
fallen tree which reached from bank to bank. The 
banks being some eight feet above the water, and the 
water being deep, we literally "cooned" it over. We 
did not go far before we ran on the Yanks and met 
a warm reception. We certainly felt them. We 
remained "feeling" them for over an hour and then 
retired, recrossing the creek at the same place in the 
same manner we had crossed. In this fight we had 
several killed and quite a number wounded. Among 
the killed was Lieut. Sweat, commanding Company 
G, of Bamberg, a good man and a brave officer. 
How they ever got him back across that creek I 
have never known, but he was brought back. This 
was the last of any happenings with and around 
Chattanooga. It was not long after this before we 
got orders to move, and we felt that we were to 
make our way back to Virginia. It seemed to us 

51 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

that we were going back home and it brought a good 
feeling over every man in the corps. The evening 
before we broke camp the band played "Take Me 
Back to Old Virginia," and Longstreet's Corps bade 
farewell to Bragg's Army and the West in pro- 
longed cheers. 

On leaving our camps next morning we marched 
a distance of eight miles to Tyner's Station, where 
we were loaded in freight boxes. Upon reaching 
the Valley of the Sweetwater we stopped about a 
week and got a plenty to eat, when we crossed the 
Tennessee River at Loudon. The weather had gotten 
cold, and we had a time crossing this river. This 
was done on a bridge made as follows: 

We had a lot of boats made and these boats were 
secured to a chain stretched across the river and 
planks laid from boat to boat. It was not a very 
safe passage way, but we passed over without any 
mishaps. Capt. Foster, of the Palmetto Sharp- 
shooters, was in command of the detail to put in this 
bridge. It was so cold that the ice would cover the 
chain from end to end and the men suffered much 
from cold while at this work. 

Capt. Foster was from Union, S. C, and is still 
alive and quite wealthy, and is one of the best busi- 
ness men today in Union. For the next few days we 
had running fights with the enemy, they doing the 
running. Just before reaching Campbell Station 
we captured a train of eighty wagons well loaded 
with supplies, which they had left in their hurjry. 
This came in mighty well, but there was not any 

52 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

clothing or shoes, the things we most needed just 
then, for we were both naked and barefooted. We 
expected a big fight around Campbell Station, but 
somehow they got away after some heavy skirm- 
ishing. While following the enemy very closely and 
keeping them in the continued "go-along" here we 
caught them one morning while they were cooking 
breakfast and rushed into them. They took to 
their heels and we got the breakfast. As we dashed 
into them I ran upon a fine mare tied to an oak limb 
with a halter. I captured her, and, taking her by 
the halter, continued the charge, she trotting along 
making the charge with me. 

In a very short while Dr. J. S. Stoney, of Allen- 
dale, our assistant surgeon, dashed up to me and 
asked me for the mare. I had no use for her and 
made him a present of her, and he sent her home by 
Tom, his negro boy. She is the mother and grand- 
mother of the famous four-mile racers which had 
such a reputation for speed and distance, owned by 
Dr. Stoney. 

Our next place to hold up was around Knoxville,. 
where we had some hard service and hard fighting. 
We invested Knoxville on all sides and had two 
days' fighting, driving the enemy back into their 
entrenchments, and on the morning of the third day 
we made the attack on Fort Sanders. The attack 
was inade about sunrise, one of the coldest mornings 
I think I ever felt. We were in tatters, so far as 
clothing went, and a great many barefooted, but 
with the accustomed endurance of the men who had 

53 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

suffered from the same cause on previous occasions, 
we did not falter. 

In making the charge on Fort Sanders we went 
through frozen bogs and over felled trees, trimmed 
up with the limbs sharpened and pointing towards 
us. Picking our way the best we could through this 
barricade, we slowly and gradually drew closer to 
the fort, but we struck an obstacle which we found 
hard to overcome. Among these felled trees there 
were barbed wires interlined about six inches apart, 
and some five feet high. Having nothing to cut the 
wires and no way to get through we were ordered to 
give up the attempt. Our loss was considerable, but 
not so great as might be supposed, taking into con- 
sideration the very slow advance we had made. We 
retired in good order, not beaten, but just failed, 
because there was no earthly way to do more. We 
were then taken hurriedly to Rodgersville, a dis- 
tance of some fifty miles, where we expected to go 
into winter quarters, but remained here only a few 
days. While here Capt. Jim Hagood, of Company 
K, was made colonel; Capt. B. B. Kirkland, Com- 
pany C, of Buford's Bridge, lieutenant-colonel, and 
Capt. Grimes, of Company G, of Bamberg, major. 
You see from this that Jim Hagood, who had joined 
Capt. Kirkland's Company, had risen from private 
—over his captain and the other senior officers of 
the regiment. Col. Hagood was only nineteen years 
old when he was appointed colonel. After being at 
Rodgersville only a few days we were carried on a 
forced march to McBean Station, where the enemy 

54 




("AI'T. p.. r>. KlUKLAXD. 

oinoted Licutennnt-Colonpl. 



Lt.-Col. B. B. Kirkhind, from the Buford's Bridge section 
of old Barn^A•ell District, enlisted in Ilagood's First South 
Carolina Volunteers at its organization as twelve-months' 
troops and \A'as second lieutenant of Company "I." At the 
expiration of the twelve months, he re-enlisted as captain of 
Company "C" and made this the crack company of the regi- 
ment. He served with gallantry throughout the entire war. 
On Longstreet's return from around Chattanooga to Vir- 
ginia, just after the charge on Fort Sanders, at Knoxville, 
he was ])romoted lieutenant-colonel over the major of the 
regiment. He was a gallant soldier and had the respect and 
admiration of the whole regiment, both as a man and an 
officer. He lived to get home. He then married Miss Mar- 
garet Dunbar, of the Millette section of the district, and 
raised quite a large family of boys and girls who are still 
the best people of the country. 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

had nearly succeeded in getting in our rear. We 
again put them on the run and the army then headed 
for Morristown, where they went into winter quar- 
ters. Our brigade, however, was sent out at 
Rodgersville on a foraging expedition to report to 
the army at Morristown. We were on this expedi- 
tion for nearly two weeks, having all the wagons of 
Longstreet's Corps to fill up. We had quite a good 
time while on this detached service, so far as eating 
was concerned. While the officers were doing their 
work in a big way, we fellows were doing ours in a 
much smaller way; and many a chicken, turkey, 
goose, pig, went into our private haversacks. 

Jim Diamond, of Barnwell, was at that time a 
wagon driver. One night he told me to come with 
him next morning, that we could take a mule apiece 
and put in a good day; that he had seen some nice 
geese about four miles off and we would try for 
them. I went next morning and we jumped on a 
mule apiece, I bareback. Jim headed the way to 
where he knew the geese were. He was prepared 
himself, and before reaching the place he instructed 
me to follow and ask no questions. On riding up 
to the farm house, the old lady of the house came 
out to talk to us. We tried to get something to eat 
from her, but she wanted money. This country was 
nearly all Unionist and bushwhackers. Having no 
money, we failed to outtalk her, and, as the geese 
were out on the front, we decided to start. Jim had 
a fishing line, and as we rode by the geese he baited 
his hook with a grain of corn and threw it down 

55 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

near an old gander, who immediately gobbled it up. 
Jim tightened on his line and found he had him 
hooked. We started off then in a slow trot, and as 
Jim commenced to pull the gander commenced to 
pull too. Jim held his hold and the old fellow 
came flopping behind with his wings outstretched, 
looking as if he was showing fight. The balance of 
the drove fell in behind the old gander, and away 
we went. The old woman looked on in utter amaze- 
ment and cried out to us, "Don't run; he can't hurt 
you," but running right then was our idea, and, 
after getting them all down the road in a kind of a 
bottom, I held the line and Jim jumped down and 
with a stick killed six of as fine, fat geese as were 
ever raised. After visiting a place or two where we 
did manage to get some meal and flour and salt, 
talking the people out of it, we concluded to get 
back — had enough for one day. We were right good 
with our supply, giving the men in the company 
four of the geese. The other two we cooked and 
invited Col. Hagood, Col. Kirkland, Dr. Bellinger 
and Capt. Wood to take supper with us. We had a 
big supper about 1 o'clock at night, but the lateness 
of the hour did not interfere with any one's appetite. 
As soon as we got our wagon train all loaded we 
headed out for Morristown to take things into the 
then hungry army, and right glad were they to see 
us and our train all laden down. This was just 
before Christmas, and we had enough to put us up a 
good Christmas dinner, after adding to it in private 
foraging parties. On Christmas Eve a couple of our 

56 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

company went out and on returning some time dur- 
ing the night they brought in a bee hive wrapped 
up in a blanket. Next morning they knocked off the 
head and took out the honey. At that time the 
bees were cold and not much trouble, but towards 
the middle of the day, the sun shining brightly, they 
warmed up, and there was a mess. The bees took 
the camp and many a fellow got a good stinging. 

It was announced here at our winter quarters that 
all those who had not been home should have a 
chance for a furlough — so many men to one fur- 
lough. Our regiment was entitled to only one, and 
there were but three who had not been home ; there 
were myself, who had no family at home; Hughes, 
from Bamberg, who had a wife and children whom 
he had not seen since he left them in May, 1861, and 
one other in the same fix as Hughes. I never saw 
people so excited over the drawing as the other two. 
As for myself, I did not care much. Hughes was 
the most anxious man I ever saw. The papers were 
put in a hat, one marked "furlough," the other two 
blank. Hughes drew first — got a blank. The other 
fellow drew ; he, too, got a blank, leaving the paper 
marked "furlough" in the hat for me. These two 
good old soldiers actually cried. They could fight, 
march naked and barefoot, do without something 
to eat — all without a murmur. But being so near 
to getting a furlough and then to miss, it was too 
much. / could not stand it. So I told them to put 
two papers in the hat, one blank and one "fur- 
lough;" I would give my privilege away. This was 

57 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

done and these two prepared to draw. By this time 
everybody was excited over the event and a big 
crowd had gathered to see the result. As Hughes 
had drawn first before, it was decided that the 
other fellow should do so this time. He put his 
hand forward to go into the hat. His hand was 
shaking and he was excited to death. Hughes, poor 
fellow, stood looking on. He was a pitiful sight. 
He could hardly stand up — his legs were shaking. 
Despair was depicted on his face. The hand already 
forward went down into the hat and slowly out it 
came. I believe both men had their eyes shut. Some 
one read, "furlough." Hughes had again lost. It 
was pitiful to see him, but the other fellow was 
happy. It was strange that Hughes never did get 
home till after the surrender. 



58 



CHAPTER VII. 

We are now in winter quarters near Morristown 
in the coldest country and the wettest country I 
ever saw. Fortunately, w^e have tents plenty, wood 
abundant and a good country to get something to 
eat. It is too cold and wet to drill, therefore, we 
have nothing to do but rest up, patch our old clothes 
as best we can, and our barefoot boys resort to 
the method of tying up their feet in pieces of 
blankets, making a kind of moccasin. Were we 
properly clothed and shod we would be compar- 
atively comfortable. This East Tennessee country 
is a fine country for hogs, cattle, eggs, chickens, 
flour, meal, bee-gums and maple syrup. We are 
certainly on the go, hunting and finding some of 
all these things, but as I am one of those who are 
totally without a covering to my feet and my 
breeches are too far gone to even take a patch, I 
cannot get out much. But Jim Diamond is as good 
as ever hunting up these things, and our mess has 
a plenty to eat. He even sometimes comes in with a 
little applejack, and then we have a "jollification" 
sure enough. Col. Hagood and Capt. Wood have 
about joined our mess for good. They having a 
negro boy cook, each one generally goes out with 
Jim, while the other remains and cooks, and the 
colonel and captain have some money — we have 
none. We could not very well refuse to take them in 
with us. 



59 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

We had not been here more than three weeks 
when we heard some fighting going on down on 
Strawberry Plains, thirteen miles off. Our cavalry 
had run up on a lot of moving Yankee infantry and 
had attacked them. We were called out and formed 
line of march. This was bitter cold weather and 
this was a hard march on us, especially those of us 
who were barefoot, among whom I was one. We 
barefoot fellows wrapped up our feet the best we 
could and fell in with the balance. The woods were 
full of water from the rains and were so hard frozen 
that the ice did not break with the weight of the 
horses. We hurriedly arrived near the fighting, 
and, just on the edge of the plain in which the 
fight was going on, and in a thick woods, all the 
barefoot men were ordered to fall out and make 
fires. It was only a short way to the firing, and, 
instead of "falling out," I had an eye for the future. 
We went into the open fields in a double quick line 
of battle. The enemy fell back as we advanced. We 
had not gone more than a couple of hundred yards 
before we ran over some dead Yankees. Here was 
my opportunity, and I embraced it. The first one 
I got to I stopped, pulled off his pants, shoes and 
stockings, got right into them, there and then. The 
shoes were new and fit perfectly ; the stockings were 
good wool and came up to my knees, and the pants 
were all right, except a little too long, but I rolled 
them up about as they are worn these days and they, 
too, were a fit. I felt grand. The fight was soon 
over, with no casualties on our side. We then started 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

for our return trip and I felt very sorry for those 
poor barefoot devils v^^ho took the opportunity of 
stopping at a fire rather than go a little further and 
have the chance of "rigging out" in a good outfit. 
They had to take it back as they had come. 

A few days after this a lady came into our camp 
and asked Col. Hagood for a guard to protect her 
place, saying she would feed us and sleep us. I was 
sent in charge of the detail. Along with me was 
Jimmie Brabham, a son of Maj. J. J. Brabham, of 
Buford's Bridge. Maj. Brabham was, after the war, 
Clerk of the Court of Barnwell County for a good 
many years and was the first captain of Company C 
while around Charleston and the islands the first 
year of the war. We were sent out (Jim Brabham 
and myself) with the lady, who took us to her home 
about four miles from our camp. We were all afoot. 
When we got to her home we discovered that we 
were outside of our lines, about equi-distant 
between our lines and the Yankee lines, perhaps a 
mile from each. When I discovered this I determ- 
ined to go back and give up the scheme, but the 
lady told me that she was Mrs. McDonald, the wife 
of a Yankee major, who was encamped not more 
than three miles off. It was he who sent her for a 
guard, and he told her to pledge our protection from 
the Yankees. Jim and I concluded to stay, and 
Mrs. McDonald assigned us to a nice, warm room, 
good feather bed with plenty of warm covering. 
We remained here with her and her two children, 



61 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

a boy of about thirteen years and a girl, named 
Becl^, about sixteen years, for thirty-eight days. 

Mrs. McDonald was very kind to us. We had the 
biggest kind of oak fires in the sitting room all day, 
and the fires would be there through the entire 
night. We would go to bed usually at about ten 
o'clock. Only about two nights in the week Mrs. 
McDonald would say, "Go to bed earlier tonight, 
boys, the major is coming." He used to come home 
about two nights a week, but we never got to see 
him, nor did we care to see him. Mrs. McDonald 
was a good cook, along with everything else, and 
she surely did feed us well on the best — principally 
sausages and big hominy. Jim and I would go up 
on the side of the mountains with the little boy, his 
mule and slide, and help haul wood which was 
already cut. On one occasion Mrs. McDonald asked 
me to go to mill for her; the meal was out. She 
had the corn shelled, and told me the mill was inside 
the Yankee lines, but the major had told the picket 
on duty at the mill not to molest me. Well, I 
decided that as they had been true to us in every- 
thing else, when they could have taken us any night, 
that there was no danger. So Jim helped me to get 
about three bushels of corn up on the mule, gave me 
"a leg," and then, getting direction, I pulled out for 
the mill. I found the mill at least two miles, or it 
seemed to me. As I rode on the end of the mill dam 
some half dozen Yankees came out of the mill house, 
all well armed. I could not but feel a little uneasy, 
but when I reached the house they bid me, "Good 

62 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

morning, Johnny." They helped me off and took 
in the sack of corn. We sat around in the sunshine 
and talked till the corn was ready, when they put it 
up on the mule and helped me up and bade me 
good-bye. 

Near Mrs. McDonald's home were several other 
homes, and nearly every night we would have com- 
pany in the persons of some young ladies who would 
spend the evenings, sometimes remaining till eleven 
or twelve o'clock. They would jump on poor Jim 
and me and give us the devil in a friendly way. 
They seemed to like us very much. I remember 
they had a song which they would sing us, some- 
thing like this: 

» 

"Some near day you will hear the Yankees say, 
To old Jeff Davis, *You had better get away, 
For we will raise the Union band, 
Make the Eebels understand, 
To leave our land 
Or submit to Abraham.' " 

They would have a jolly time with us and we 
equally as jolly a time with them. To show how well 
the major took care of us from his people, we would 
even go home with the girls all hours of the night 
and were never disturbed. But this could not last 
forever, and the time came when we were called in ; 
and two days after we struck camp and started 
again for Virginia. On passing through Morris- 
town I saw Mrs. McDonald, Becky and Tom and 

63 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

several of the young ladies who had been to visit us 
at the McDonalds, on a street corner. They had 
gone to town to see us off and bade us good-bye. 
They called us out of ranks and seemed real sorry to 
see us go. I have often thought of the good people 
and wondered if the major got through all right. I 
hope he did. 

We kept on the move until we reached Bristol, 
Term., when we stopped a couple of days to rest up. 
After which we moved again and stopped a day or 
two at Chancellorsville, and then on to Gordons- 
ville, where we were met by Gen. Lee and had a 
grand review by the grand old chieftain, who seemed 
as happy to have us back as we were to get back. 
Gen. Lee must have felt good in getting the welcome 
extended him by those who had been lost to him so 
long. The men hung around him and seemed satis- 
fied to lay their hands on his gray horse or to touch 
the bridle, or the stirrup, or the old general's leg — 
anything that Lee had was sacred to us fellows who 
had just come back. And the general. He could 
not help from breaking down. Here were men who 
had gone forward at his command, knowing that 
they might never get out; here were men who had 
never murmured when Lee said, "Go!" or "Come." 
Here were men who had suffered privation, hunger, 
cold, death itself^ whenever ordered by him. He 
could not help giving way, and tears traced down 
his cheeks, and he felt that we were again to do his 
bidding. 

We stopped over here for several days and got a 

64 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

good many recruits, some sick and wounded return- 
ing to us, and some other men and boys, new men 
who had never yet seen service. Among these were 
old men— Walton Hair, Mathias Hair, from Elko; 
John William Canady, from Tinker Creek; W. F. 
Kitchen, Darios Ogden and Artist Woodward, 
from Williston, and Eddie Bellinger, from Barn- 
well, and Job Kountree, from Joyce's Branch— all 
these for Company E, Eddie Bellinger being the 
only young man, and he a mere youth. These new 
recruits, with some sick and wounded returning, 
made us a right respectable company once more. 
We needed another officer in our company, having 
only Capt. Wood and Lieut. Dick Best, from Allen- 
dale, so we held an election for lieutenant, and J. 
Marshall Hair, of Williston, was elected. 

After remaining here for perhaps two weeks, on 
the morning of the third day of May we took up our 
line of march and on the night of the fifth of May 
we stopped for the night within six miles of the 
Wilderness, having tramped sixty-odd miles in the 
two and a half days. When we stopped for the night 
we were pretty badly jaded and needed the night's 
rest. We had been hearing the musketry and can- 
nonading nearly the entire day. This was kept up 
all night and we knew that we would be into the 
thickest of it early next morning, and, sure enough, 
we were put on the move just before day. We moved 
at a double quick and kept up the double quick for 
the entire six miles, when we reached the Wilderness 
and went directly into it. 

65 

5— R. P. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

We struck the plank road at the Wilderness in a 
double quick just after sunrise and took down it 
towards the battle which had been going on furi- 
ously since just after midnight. Our regiment was 
on the extreme left of our brigade, which placed us 
in rear when marching in columns of four. Our 
company, Company E, was on the left of the regi- 
ment, this making our company the extreme left of 
Jenkins' Brigade. Just in rear of us was Bennings' 
Georgians, and the old general was on his gray 
horse in that slow gallop at the head of his brigade. 
Our division (Fields' Division) was composed now 
of Hood's Texas Brigade, in front, Anderson's Geor- 
gia Brigade (Tige Anderson), Robertson's Alabama 
Brigade, Jenkins' South Carolina Brigade and 
Bennings' Georgia Brigade (Rock Benning). The 
names of Tige Anderson and Rock Benning had 
been given these two brigadiers a long time back. 

Hood, Anderson and Robertson had reached the 
Wilderness earlier in the morning, some two hours 
ahead of Jenkins and Benning, and were heavily 
engaged. When we struck the plank road we were 
still in a double quick. We were ordered to load 
at the double quick. Gen. Benning was just about 
twenty feet in my rear. Very soon we commenced 
to meet the wounded coming out. These wounded 
fellows would step one side, giving us the right of 
way, and also giving words of encouragement. I 



66 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

noticed one old fellow using his gun for a crutch, 
he being shot in the leg. As we got to him he 
stepped out to one side, and, standing still as Gen. 
Benning got to him, he cried out in a loud, cheer- 
full voice, "Go it. Rock. Tige's treed.'' And I guess 
the old fellow was telling the truth. 

Benning's brigade was filed to the left of the 
plank road ; our brigade was filed to the right of it 
with our left resting on the road. Just as we had 
cleared enough to give us room the command was 
given, "Left flank." This threw us in line of battle. 
We were ordered to halt in this position. We had 
hardly stopped when Kershaw's Brigade came tilt- 
ing back, closly followed by the enemy. No one 
seemed to know that we were there, when Kershaw's 
men discovered us by running into us. They were 
happy and rallied of their own accord, and the 
way we did put it to those Yankees ! It would have 
done you good to see. We drove them easily back, 
as they were so surprised, but we did not follow 
them up but a short distance, when we stopped 
behind a kind of breastworks made from a few old 
pines piled together. Here we remained till midday 
under a heavy fire, and doing the same for them. 
During the time we were here I asked permission of 
Col. Hagood to let me crawl out in front and see if I 
couldn't get something off of the dead Yankees 
lying just away from us. He said it was mighty 
risky, but if I chose to take chances and would not 
go far, to go ahead. I lay flat of my belly and 
crawled up to the first one, then to the second, until 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

I had visited eight of these fellows. I was always 
very careful to keep them between me and the 
Yankees. I thought I had gone far enough after 
getting to the eighth, so I turned back and crawled 
into our lines. When I got back Jim Hagood said, 
"What have you got?" We were lying down, as we 
could not put up our heads on account of the bullets. 
I unloaded my pockets, turning them out on the 
ground. I had six watches, three or four knives, 
some rations and a few other trinkets. Col. Hagood 
took his choice of the watches and I gave Capt. 
Wood another. The other I sold to Sid Key, now 
of Beaufort, who had some Confederate money. We 
were still lying here in a heavy fire when, just after 
midday. Gen. Jenkins rode down the line in our rear. 
He had been hit by a bullet, breaking his little 
finger. He was holding out his hand, from which 
the blood was still trickling. He said to us, "Men of 
the First, we are going to charge. Now, I want 
each and every one of you to remember that you 
are South Carolinians. Remember your wives, your 
sweethearts, your sisters at home. Remember your 
duty. Col. Hagood, get your regiment ready." 

Col. Hagood, the boy colonel, called out, "First 
regiment, continue to lie down, but be at attention." 
Only a few moments more and the voice of Col. 
Hagood was heard, "First Regiment, forward." He 
was the first to be up and ready to move. We crossed 
over our logs and then the command, "Charge!" 
We made a dart, and so did the Yankees, but they 
darted back. We followed them, running them into 

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their works, where they had heavy reinforcements. 
We followed them to within some one hundred 
yards of these entrenchments and could go no fur- 
ther. Here we remained for perhaps an hour, when 
we leisurely fell back to our former position. While 
out there in front of the Yankee works we were 
subjected to the most deadly fire. I had picked up 
a little oak stump about the size of my thigh, which 
had rotted off even with the ground and so badly 
worm eaten that I could see holes all through it. 
This I had stood up, propping it with a stick. I got 
in behind it and soon my brother Joyce moved up on 
my left and then Lieut. Hair came up on my right. 
I was square in behind the stump and now I had a 
man on each side. I was pretty well protected, or 
at least I felt so. Lieut. Hair, being on my right, 
turned his head to the left to talk to me. We were 
all lying flat on our bellies. As he turned to speak 
to me a minnie ball hit him in the right temple, 
passing directly through his face and head, coming 
out in the left cheek. His head fell flat to the 
ground. I put my hand under his head, holding it 
up. The blood gushed from his temple, his eyes, his 
nose, his mouth. I held him thus until the blood 
in a manner stopped, then taking his handkerchief I 
wiped his eyes and asked him if he could get back. 
He thought he could, and, on standing up, a minnie 
ball cut his tobacco pouch from his coat. However, 
he started back, and after running for perhaps a 
hundred yards I saw him almost turn a somersault. 
I thought then he was a "goner," but he is yet alive, 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

living at Williston, and making a good, upright, 
intelligent citizen. 

On getting back from where we had made the 
charge we were soon moved to the left. This time 
we were supporting a brigade in Pickett's Division, 
marching in line of battle some forty yards in rear 
of their line of battle. I think I have failed to men- 
tion that the entire Wilderness was one mass of 
undergrowth — oaks from about the size of one's 
finger to the size of one's wrist, and about as tall as 
a tall man's head. The section of the woods we 
were now advancing into was remarkably thicker 
than any we had yet encountered, and, worse still, 
it seemed as if every one had a bullet through it 
from the hard fighting that had just gone on there, 
causing these white oak runners to bend down from 
being top heav3\ These bullets all semed to go 
through about the height of a man's waist. In 
tumbling down they made almost an impassable 
barrier. Together with this obstacle the dead and 
dying were so thick that we could not help stepping 
on them. It has been said that a person could walk 
seven miles, stepping from body to body, and never 
touch the ground. 

We were supporting the Virginians. They neared 
the plank road, marching parallel thereto, the 
Yankees falling back. As they got very near the 
road they saw a Yankee flag waving just above the 
bushes and just about the road. It was natural to 
suppose that the enemy had halted and was making 
a stand on this road. They immediately opened 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 



fire. The flag fell, and, as there was no response, 
we discovered that Longstreet, Jenkins and their 
staffs had ridden down this road, thinking we had 
crossed. Longstreet, seeing a Yankee flag lying on 
the road, had ordered one of his staff to pick it up. 
This he did, and, remounting, the flag was raised 
above the bushes and became unfurled. The Virgin- 
ians fired on it, killing Gen. Jenkins and danger- 
ously wounding Longstreet and some of their staff. 
This was a great misfortune to us. Here fell two 
of our best officers. It was a long time before Long- 
street was well enough to return to us, but he did 
after a while; but was ever after suffering with his 
left side and shoulder. 

While we were halted here in the confusion after 
happening to this misfortune, I ran upon a dead 
Yankee officer, finely dressed, clean and nice look- 
ing. He had on a fine pair of high top boots, brand 
new, the spurs, of course, coming with them. I 
immediately took them to Col. Hagood and he found 
them as good a fit as if made for him. We ran the 
enemy back to their entrenchments on this part of 
the line as we had done in the morning on the other 
part. We then fell back far enough to be out of 
range of their musketry, and without even taking 
off *our cartridge boxes— no fires— we lay down to 
rest and get some sleep. We did not sleep much this 
night, for we were right in among the dead and 
dying, and many a poor fellow, especially from the 
Yankee army, would beg for water, and we did not 
have it to give him. Our men got some canteens 



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from the dead, some with a little water and some 
with brandy. All this was given to the poor fellows 
without any regard to which side he belonged. All 
we cared for was that he was a human being and a 
brother, though we had fought him hard all day. 

Remaining here for the night, with only a little 
firing on the skirmish line, we retired some short 
distance next morning; only far enough back to get 
off of the ground where there were so many dead. 
Here we remained all day of the seventh and that 
night until about four or five o'clock on the morning 
of the eighth, when we were moved to our right. 
Grant had started his flank movement for Rich- 
mond by trying to turn our left. We met him on 
the eighth at Spottsylvania and here again we had a 
most bloody battle. 



72 



CHAPTER IX. 

On May Tth, the day after the big fight at the 
Wilderness, we moved back a short distance and 
got off of the field, where it was strewn with the 
dead and dying. Here we remained sharpshooting 
heavily all day; but about dark that held up and 
we were comparatively quiet. We cooked our sup- 
pers and prepared for a good night's sleep and a 
much needed rest, as we had been hard at it for over 
forty-eight hours. It was not long after dark before 
all of us were fast asleep, except those on picket. 
Grant, however, had other views than to rest. He 
was just starting on his "On to Kichmond." As the 
hours grew on, the skirmishing grew less, but yet 
there was commotion in the enemy's lines. Near 
midnight we were ordered in line and moved off— 
the whole of Lee's army. We were moved to our 
right, for Grant was moving on Richmond by the 
left. We met them after a hard march, hard only 
because we were so broken down. At Spottsylvania, 
shortly after midday, and without having time to 
rest or even catch our breath, we met them — we had 
to stop them. Our brigade was thrown in front of 
a lot of Pennsylvanians, who seemed to think no one 
had the right to stop them from going right on to 
Richmond. But it did not take us more than a 
couple of hours that evening to convince them this 
was not the day nor time to go undisputed. In little 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

less than two hours they had fallen back, leaving us 
where we met them. The Palmetto Sharpshooters 
of our brigade captured here a regiment of Pennsyl- 
vanians, over four hundred men. We did not fol- 
low them, I suppose because we were too tired and 
broken down to run when we met them, and were 
the same way and could not follow. It was now 
almost sundown, and, after sending out our skirm- 
ishers, we began to look around to see how the 
land lay ; for we expected hard fighting again after 
what we had at the Wilderness. 

The men, of their own accord, commenced to cut 
down pine trees to build breastworks. The only 
tools we had for this purpose were the little hand 
axes, about three inches wide, which some of the 
men had. These they had carried in their belts and 
used them to chop wood for fires. But now they 
put them to bigger use and would not hesitate to 
jump onto a pine tree that would square twenty 
inches; and it was surprising how soon they would 
have it down, cut off, trimmed up and cut off again. 
Then the whole company would take it up, place it 
in position. We worked this way for some hours 
into the night. All the while the whole skirmish 
line was pretty warmly engaged. That was a great 
incentive to us, and we worked until we had to quit 
because we were just broken down. But we had put 
up some log work which would be a great protection 
before we did quit. We got a very good night's 
sleep, and next morning, after eating what little we 
had, we felt real good and ready to go to work 

74 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 



again on our breastworks. This we did, and while 
our skirmish line was fighting in our front and the 
hard fight going on "at the angle" on our right, we 
worked. And by afternoon we had a set of breast- 
works of which we were proud. The Yankees did 
not attack our part of the line during the day— only 
kept our pickets heavily engaged. 

Now, this night was Company E's time for picket, 
and before dark we were carried out to the line, 
relieving the company already there. Our company 
had at this time sixteen men, all told, and we had 
to cover the entire front of the whole regiment. 
Consequently, we were not at regulation distance 
apart when we deployed as skirmishers. We, how- 
ever, relieved the other company and fell in behind 
a ran fence. We expected an advance at any 
moment. Our orders were to hold the ground as 
long as we could. After dark three of us rallied 
together and remained so. This made some distance 
from one squad to another, but it was the best we 
could do. Where each three men were we "let the 
fence down," making a jam, and then, getting in 
this, we had right good protection. There were m 
one jam Eddie Bellinger, Job Kountree and myself. 
Well, at midnight they advanced, and it was hot for 
some time. Eddie Bellinger and myself could load 
our guns lying down on our backs, but Job could not 
do it. He was used to hunting squirrels around 
Mixson's Mill Pond and Joyce's Branch and had 
never had to lie down to load. He thereupon pro- 
posed to Eddie and me that if we would do the load- 



75 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

ing he would do the shooting. This we readily 
agreed to, and Job would stand up, exposing him- 
self from waist up. As soon as we would get a gun 
loaded we would pass it to him, and he would 
throw the empt}^ gun back for another loaded one. 
We had three guns and worked them so fast that 
they got so hot we stopped loading for fear they 
would not stand it. We finally drove this advance 
back, after an hour's hard work. We were not dis- 
turbed any more till morning. Just as the sun 
began to show itself we discovered a line of battle 
advancing over the hill, where they had come a 
little nearer. There was another supporting the 
first and then yet another supporting the second, 
making an advance of three lines of battle. We 
knew we were in for it now, sure, and we poor little 
sixteen men opened on them just the same as if we 
were an army. But on they came, as if we were not 
there. It reminded me of the gnat on the bull's horn. 
On they came, and soon we heard Capt. Wood say, 
"Skirmishers, fall back, firing." We went back, 
going from tree to tree. They were gaining on us, 
as we were retiring slowly. The last stand we made 
was some seventy-five yards in front of our breast- 
works. We stopped here and gave them a round or 
two. We were protected by trees. My brother 
Joyce and myself happened to stop in behind the 
same tree. We both shot off our guns and reloaded. 
When he went to cap his gun he let the cap slip 
through his fingers, and, instead of reaching in his 
cap box for another, he stooped over to pick it up 

76 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

from the ground, thereby exposing a part of his 
person. No sooner exposed than hit, and he made 
for the works. Just then Capt. Wood gave com- 
mand, "Skirmishers, into the vv^orks," and in we 
went. We were glad, too, when we got behind them. 
By this time, or b}^ the time we had assembled as a 
company and taken our company's position in the 
regiment, the enemy's three lines had gotten up 
pretty close. The front line had advanced to within 
about forty yards of our works and had lain down. 
The second line was some twenty yards in the rear 
of these, and the third line about the same distance 
in rear of the second. All three lines were now 
lying down. We were well protected behind the 
good breastworks of logs, and the way we did give 
it to those Yankees would have done your heart 
good to see; and they — well, they stood it like men, 
but it was too much for them to go forward, and, 
after staying there for perhaps an hour, they fell 
back ; but not for long. They came again, and about 
the same thing happened the second time, after they 
had again remained for nearly an hour. Again they 
fled back, but in a short time back they came, seem- 
ingly with more vim than ever, and at one time it 
seemed that they would run over us. But we held 
on, and, showing no indication of giving way, they 
got no further than the works, which they did reach, 
but could not climb over. Here it was hot for a few 
moments, but they weakened, and for the third time 
fell back; but this time some two hundred yards, 
when they rallied. They were, however, somewhat 

77 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

demoralized and Col. Hagood, noticing this, and 
taking advantage of it, hollered out, "Company E, 
deploy as skirmishers." While we were deploying 
behind the works Col. Hagood passed an order that 
when the skirmishers started to advance the whole 
regiment must yell as we mounted the works. Then 
the command was given, "Skirmishers, forward, 
double quick." At this time there were not more 
than ten or twelve men in the skirmish line charging 
three lines of battle. As we mounted the works 
the regiment gave the yell. The whole of Lee's 
army, both to the right and left, seemed to take it 
up, and on we went, this handful. The Yankees must 
have thought our whole army was out after them, 
for they broke in confusion. It was really rich to 
see ten or twelve men running as many thousands. 

In making this advance I ran over a nice looking 
fellow who was just dead. I happened to notice a 
gold ring on his finger, and as the enemy were get- 
ting back as fast as they could, I concluded to get 
that ring. So, stooping over, I pulled it off, and 
upon straightening up I saw a body of Yankees at 
right shoulder shift and at a double quick, an officer 
with drawn sword in command, coming up on our 
left, now in our rear. I called out to Capt. Wood, 
"They are flanking us on the left, captain." He 
stopped and looked and gave the command, "Skirm- 
ishers, in retreat." He and I started back, and to 
get back we had to pass just at the head of these 
Yankees. As we got at their head the officer in 
command of them ordered his men to halt, and, 

78 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

turning his sword, tendered it to Capt. Wood, 
thereby surrendering the lot. Capt. Wood immedi- 
ately cried out, "Skirmishers, halt, forward. Frank, 
take charge of these men." I stepped up, gave the 
command, "File right, double quick," and in no time 
the whole lot were in our works, thirty-six prisoners. 
It seems that we had been fighting all day fresh 
troops from Vermont, and the unexpected advance 
of our skirmish line led this entire company to 
believe that they were behind our advancing 
columns. 

It had been raining all day, and we were as black 
with powder as the negroes at home. Our hands 
and faces would get wet, and taking our cartridges 
out and biting off the stem we would get the pow- 
der on our hands and faces. 

It was now late in the afternoon and another com- 
pany was sent to relieve us. We had been on the 
skirmish line since the evening before. On passing 
back to our works I stopped and foraged a little; 
and when I went into our works I was literally 
loaded down with haversacks, Imapsacks and hats. 
I had six Stetson hats— new— and, on opening the 
knapsacks the things which struck my fancy most 
were white laundered shirts (biled shirts). I gave a 
hat to Col. Hagood, Capt. Wood, Lieut. Dick Bryan, 
Lieut. Dick Best, Jim Diamond, and kept one 
myself. The dry goods and rations were divided out 
to the company. It was amusing to see us with our 
faces as black as chimney sweeps with a white 
starched shirt on. We got our supper all right that 

79 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

night and slept like logs. The iaring on the picket 
line did not worry us enough to keep us awake, 
though at times it seemed as if they were coming 
again. This ended the third day at Spottsylvania. 



80 



CHAPTER X. 

We had a comparatively quiet night after this 
hard day's work and slept pretty well, lying down 
in ranks behind our breastworks. The rain that had 
been falling the entire day ceased during the early 
part of the night. We did not make down our beds, 
nor even take off our accoutrements; but then we 
had not done that since the night before the Wilder- 
ness. Next morning, after we had prepared and 
eaten our breakfast, the little we had, we were 
relieved by some other troops, and we were taken 
up on the right in and about the Angle; but just 
as we got there our troops had made an assault and 
had gained what they had lost. Therefore, we were 
not actively in the engagement, though we were in 
it enough to be under a heavy fire, and we had 
some men both killed and wounded. I recollect that 
Lieut. Dick Steedly, of Company G, Bamberg, who 
was commanding that company, was wounded while 
we were on this part of the line, and others, too, 
whom I cannot recall. 

We remained on this part of the line during the 
day, being kept in readiness to go to any point 
where we might be needed. We were kept close up 
to the fighting line, and, while not being engaged, 
yet we were close enough and were under a heavy 
hre during the entire day. We must have remained 
at this position that night. Next morning the 

81 
•— R. P. 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

enemy seemed to have moved down to their right — 
our left — and the fighting was heavy there. We 
were hurried down to that part of the line. We 
found a heavy fight going on, but the Georgians, 
whom we went to support, were holding their own, 
and we were held back ready to support any part 
that might give way. The Georgians finally made 
an assault and drove the enemy back and followed 
them closely for some distance. While this was 
going on we were lining quickly in rear, ready to 
move in any direction. 

While waiting here Eddie Bellinger and I con- 
cluded to "nose around" and see if we could run on 
to anything. Rations were now scarce, and some- 
thing to eat would go good. Without saying a word 
to anyone except Jim Diamond, we walked off in the 
direction of the front, where the Georgians were 
now skirmishing. We soon reached their line and 
passed on through to the front. The skirmishing 
had about this time ceased. We continued to go on 
to the front and pass the skirmish line. The 
battlefield of the days before was just ahead of us, 
and we knew if we could get to where the dead 
were we would get something sure. Cautiously now, 
for we were in advance of our pickets and knew 
nothing of the whereabouts of the Yankees. But 
for something to eat we were taking chances. We 
at last came upon the ground where the dead of 
several days were lying. We had not searched but a 
few when heavy firing began on the right, and we 
discovered the pickets from outside advancing. Im- 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

mediately there was a perfect fusilade on the 
picket line on the right. We knew it would extend 
to where we w^ere and catch us between the lines. 
Consequently, we determined to get "away back." 
We started back in a hurry, and when the Georgia 
picket line saw us coming back as hard as we could 
run they thought the Yankees were right in behind 
us, and the}^ broke. The captain in command of the 
pickets soon discovered that the enemy were not 
making an advance, that Eddie and I had caused 
the whole confusion. He rallied his picket line, and 
by that time we were up with them. The old man 
was mad at us and he gave us the hardest "cussing" 
you ever heard ; but we kept right on back and were 
soon with our company. We had three or four 
haversacks pretty well filled, and it was not long 
before Jim Diamond had a fire and had on it in tin 
cans sliced bacon and rice, making a pillau. It 
must have smelt good, for it was not long before 
Gen. Bratton and Col. Simms, his adjutant-general, 
came up near where we were cooking. Then Col. 
Hagood, Adjt. Clowney, Capt. Wood, all gathered 
near. In due course of time Jim took off his cans, 
some half dozen quarts, set them around, flattened 
out some pine paddles and invited up the gang. 
Did they come ? You should have seen how readily 
they accepted the invitation. Not one of them hesi- 
tated in the least, and the best part was that there 
was just about enough for all. You should have 
seen that crowd after the feast, getting out their 



83 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

pipes, filling up and lolling back, seemingly per- 
fectly contented. 

"V^Tiile upon the field of battle I came upon one 
poor fellow with his head completely gone, taken 
off even with his shoulders, evidently by a cannon 
ball. In taking his watch from his waist-band 
pocket, I felt a small roll of something. On investi- 
gating I found a few greenback bills sewed up in 
his waist-band. There were two tens and a five. As 
soon as Sid Key knew I had them he was after a 
trade, and I finally sold to him for three hundred 
and seventy-five Confederate. 

The fighting had now about ceased along the 
entire line, except sharpshooting, which was kept 
up pretty regularly and rapidly enough to keep us 
expecting something at any time. But as the even- 
ing wore on nothing more serious occurred. I guess 
that we must have remained at this point during the 
night — I cannot recollect — but I think next morning 
all sharpshooting had stopped and everything on 
the entire line seemed to be perfectly quiet. During 
the morning we were moved, and we soon discovered 
that we were off again to meet Grant somewhere 
else, as he failed to get through at Spottsylvania, 
as well as the Wilderness, and was again moving to 
his left, still on his way to Richmond. 

We held up that night in the vicinity of Hanover 
Junction, where we confronted the enemy. We 
remained here, I think, three days, with the enemy 
in front and heavy skirmishing and sharpshooting 
going on, but no regular engagement was had here. 

84 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

« 

They made no general advance. I guess they were 
about as tired and broken down as we were; and 
then, perhaps, Grant was holding up here for more 
men, as his losses at the Wilderness and Spottsyl- 
vania had been fearful. At any rate, we confronted 
him here for the three days, and we, too, rested up. 
While here one evening Col. Hagood had the regi- 
ment formed and had such orders as these read : 

"For meritorious conduct, the colonel command- 
ing takes pleasure in announcing the following pro- 
motions and appointments: Adjt. S. B. Clowney, 

to be captain of Company (I forget whether 

Company B or Company K) ; Sergt. -Major O. D. A. 
Wilson, to be adjutant; Private E. W. Bellinger, 
Company E, to be ensign, with rank of first lieu- 
tenant; Private W. R. Brabham, of Company C, 
to be sergeant-major; Private F. M. Mixson to be 
sergeant. Company E, and Private R. C. Kirkland 
to be corporal of Company C. They will be obeyed 
and respected accordingly. By order of the colonel 
commanding." 

I think I have failed to mention that Darling Pat- 
terson, who had been our color bearer since the Sec- 
ond Manassas, and had been home for some time 
suffering with a wound, had recovered sufficiently to 
return. He had, however, applied for a transfer to 
Hart's Battery, but this was refused until the Bat- 
tery offered us two men for him, when the change 
was accepted. But up to this place, the two men 
(named Morrison and Stewart) had not reported to 
us, though they should have done so, and did so a 

85 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

short time thereafter, I think about the time we 
reached Petersburg. 

After lying around Hanover Junction for about 
three days, and Grant had satisfied himself that we 
were there in his front, he (Grant) moved suddenly 
to Cold Harbor ; and we moved as suddenly, and he 
again found us in his front. We went to Cold Har- 
bor in a hurried march. As we were going down 
the public road, woods on the right and a large field 
on the left, we passed Keitt's South Carolina Regi- 
ment, just from the coast, drawn up in line of battle 
on the side of the road, we passing just in front of 
them. They were a fine body of men, the regiment 
bearing thirteen hundred strong — about twice as 
big as our entire brigade. They inquired of us, 
"What regiment are you?" and on being told the 
First South Carolina, they jokingly said, "This 
must be only one company of it." But, poor fel- 
lows, they soon learned how fast members could 
diminish. 

We moved on down the line to our right and soon 
we heard the battle open in front of Keitt ; and they 
were in it for the first time. Many a poor fellow 
who had so short a time left his home State in high 
spirits and "spoiling" for a fight on this field "bit 
the dust," but well did they hold their own and 
made several most gallant charges, not knowing 
what fear was. They did nobly and held their 
part of the line manfully. We went on down the 
line, and it was not long before we, too, were in it. 
We must have run upon the Yankees quite suddenly, 

86 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

for, while marching in cohimns of fours at a double 
quick, and passing into a large field through a 
double gate, we "filed right," and upon getting 
distance enough we left flanked, throwing us into 
line of battle and immediately charged. I think 
this meeting was unexpected by both sides, because, 
as we double quicked through the gate, the brigade 
band was stationed there and was playing a lively 
air — perhaps "Bonnie Blue Flag." I laiow that 
was the only time we ever went into a fight with 
music, and it had the effect of putting us right into 
it thick and heavy before we even realized the 
enemy were near. It took us but a short time to 
break their lines and have them falling back. We 
had been resting for a few days and felt like fresh 
troops. We did not follow them up, I suppose 
for the reason we were acting on the defense, dis- 
puting their right to go to Richmond and holding 
them back. We had no other engagement in our 
front. The hard fighting here was in front of 
Keitt. The Yankees must have known they were 
fresh from the coast and concentrated all their ener- 
gies against them. At any rate, by night all the 
hard fighting was over, Grant was again repulsed, 
and we all remained on our respective fields. The 
skirmishing and sharpshooting, however, was heavy 
during the night and all next day, but no more 
advancing was done by the Yankees. We were con- 
tent with holding our ground. 

We remained around here for, I think, two days 
longer with nothing doing. I guess after these fail- 

87 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Tires to break through our lines, Grant had decided 
to make a big circle and had pulled out, and Lee was 
holding us till he had located him, when he could 
again be in his front. The next place we met him 
was at Petersburg, but when he got there Lee and 
his handful were still in his front. The "On to 
Richmond" was started on the 5th of May at the 
Wilderness, and, with fighting every day and every 
night, on the 12th of June we confronted and held 
them out of Petersburg. I think that in Long- 
street's History of the War, in telling of this great 
march of Grant's and Lee's skillful manoeuvering 
which met and foiled him in some of the greatest 
and biggest battles that had ever been fought in any 
war, Longstreet gives Grant's army at the Wilder- 
ness at one hundred and fifty-six thousand men, 
with the world to draw from ; Lee at the Wilderness 
with only fifty-eight thousand, you might say, 
regular "rag-a-mufiins," in so far as something to 
eat, clothing, ammunition and other supplies, and 
nowhere on God's green earth to draw men, material 
or supplies; but yet when Lee confronted Grant at 
Petersburg we were as indomitable as the first day 
at the Wilderness and loved Lee more. He was cer- 
tainly now the idol of his men. Longstreet says 
that Grant's loss from the Wilderness to Petersburg 
in killed and wounded was fifty-eight thousand men, 
the number Lee had in his entire army. So, you 
see, on an average, each man in Lee's army had hit 
his man. Besides, our losses were heavy and we 
confronted Grant with only a mighty few. 

88 



CHAPTER XI. 

It is strange that I cannot recall anything from 
Cold Harbor to Petersburg. I don't recollect when 
we left Cold Harbor nor how fast we were hurried, 
nor the distance. The first thing coming to my 
remembrance is reaching Petersburg. I have con- 
sulted with Capt. Foster and several others, privates 
like myself, of this place (Union, S. C), who were 
members of the Palmetto Sharpshooters, a regi- 
ment of our brigade, and, to my surprise, they, too, 
are about as much in the dark as to that period as I 
am. I account for it this way: We had been 
around Cold Harbor for several days, the first two 
days of which we had hard fighting. The balance 
of the time remaining there we had only some 
skirmishing on the picket lines and resting up. 
Therefore, there were no impressions left. Besides, 
we needed this rest and quiet sorely, after the hard 
times we had undergone since the first morning at 
the Wilderness. Some time passed, and, conse- 
quently, we took things easy, regardless of every- 
thing. I do not remember, nor could I find out, how 
we reached Petersburg. I do not think, nor can I 
believe, that we passed through Richmond. If not, 
we must have crossed the James River on pontoons 
below Richmond, but, be that as it may, we did 
reach Petersburg, and none too soon. There was 
a heavy fight in progress. It was then about sun- 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

down. We were thrown into line of battle and 
ordered to double quick. We had gone perhaps 
half a mile, drawing nearer and nearer the fighting 
forces, when suddenly we met our men being driven 
back. I understand that these were Gen. Beaure- 
gard's troops, who had been holding the enemy in 
check all day, and had just commenced to retire, 
being worn out and overpowered. They immedi- 
ately fell in with us, and here we checked the 
advancing enemy and held our line, and upon this 
line so held we built the famous Petersburg breast- 
works, such works as were never built before, and 
which were occupied by our troops for nine long^ 
timesome and eventful months. It is true that at 
first these works here were only a crude affair, we 
not expecting to remain in them many days; but 
time went on and each day saw more work done, 
more facilities for moving around and for living, 
until we had built so that we could get around — 
cook, eat, sleep, the same as on the level, and with 
comparative safety, though the least exposure of the 
person would guarantee a quick shot from the 
enemy's sharpshooters with globe-sighted guns, and 
they got to be such expert marksmen that they 
rarely ever missed. 

At this time our lines were some distance apart — 
far enough, in fact, for us and them to keep out our 
pickets, and the fighting for a while was done by 
the picket line, the army itself being hard at work 
with pick and spade. The work was hard and 
heavy and those who would go into the trenches at 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

night would work the time while there and be 
relieved by fresh troops the following night. This 
was done until we had good works, and until Grant 
had so lengthened his line that nearly all of Lee's 
army was required to face him, leaving but a hand- 
ful to relieve those who had worked the hardest, 
and who were also held as a kind of reserve, ready 
to go to any point, should the enemy make an 
assault. These held in reserve would be one day 
one command, the next day another. 

Grant now had Petersburg invested and had 
moved his lines up so close that we nor they had 
space for pickets — in fact, our videttes did not leave 
our works. I don't think it could have been over 
two hundred yards from our works to theirs. It 
might have been more and it might have been less. 
It was a long time ago and I might not recall the 
distance correctly; but I do recollect that it was 
very uncomfortably close. 

About this time the two men, Morrison and 
Stewart, whom were given us by Hart's Battery in 
exchange for Darling Patterson, came to us. I must 
take time to give a brief description of these two 
men. Morrison was a great big fellow, heavy frame, 
about forty-five or fifty years old, heavy gray 
beard, and he was a real good-hearted fellow, but 
the report of a gun would scare him out of his 
breeches. He was certainly constitutionally a 
coward, and I really think he hated it, and when not 
under fire and not scared he would determine to try 
to not get so next time; but his good intentions 

91 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

would go to the wind just as soon as the bullets 
began to come. 

The other fellow, Stewart, was a medium sized, 
dark complexioned, swarthy man, about thirty or 
thirty-five. He was a genuine coward and would 
not try, nor did he care to overcome it, but would 
skulk on all occasions ; and, worse still, he pretended 
to be a preacher, and often, in the very nick of time, 
old Stewart would sing out, "Let's all join in 
prayer." He played this off on us for a little while, 
and would succeed in being left ; but, after a while, 
we found him out, and would break up his little 
scheme, although I don't recollect his having even 
been gotten into a regular "sit-to" fight. About 
this time we got another recruit — one that must be 
mentioned in these memoirs, because I knew him 
before he came, and, besides, he was known to every- 
one from Barnwell. John Lambert, of Barnwell, 
was our other new man, and why he should have 
selected our regiment for his service I could never 
understand, unless it was that he had known from 
infancy Col. Hagood, Eddie Bellinger, Jim Dia- 
mond, Perry Manville, the Mixson boys and Nelson 
boys, and perhaps some others ; and as he had to go 
somewhere it was just as well to go where he knew 
people. Now, while John didn't love fighting, and 
always said that the Lord intended him to take care 
of himself, and he didn't purpose to disappoint the 
Lord, he was a jolly fellow and kept things lively 
with his jokes and quaint sayings. But, while he 
was very careful how he exposed himself, he did 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

an act while in the trenches which the bravest of 
the brave shuddered at. After a time in the 
trenches it had gotten so that the least exposure was 
certain death. One day there came along in the 
field in rear of our regiment a nice, fat shoat, about 
fifty pounds, strolling as if he didn't care if corn 
was fifty dollars a bushel. He strolled along till 
a Yankee sharpshooter concluded to cut him down. 
We heard him squeal and saw the shoat keel over. 
Something to eat of any kind would go well, but a 
fat pig, within seventy-five yards, ready to be 
cleaned and cooked ! John Lambert couldn't stand 
it, but, jumping out of the trenches, running back 
with the minnie balls cutting the dirt all around 
him, he succeeded in getting to that hog. grabbing 
it by the hind leg, and started back in face of death 
itself. No one expected him to get in, but on he 
came, and finally jumped in the trench, hog and all, 
without even a scratch. It was one of the most 
marvelous feats, besides the most daring, of any- 
thing that I recollect happening. After this if any- 
thing was ever said to John in reference to his being 
a little scary he would bring up the pig incident. 

We remained in the trenches for some time before 
being relieved for a night, but at last our night 
came, and we were taken back to rest. We knew 
that Gen. Johnson Hagood's Brigade was some- 
where on the line, and late in the afternoon Jim 
Diamond, Eddie Bellinger and myself got permis- 
sion to go over to Hagood's brigade headquarters 
to see Vince Bellinger and Willie Hagood, who were 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

in the brigade quartermaster department of 
Hagood's Brigade. We knew we would get some- 
thing to eat and get something to bring back. We 
found them about sundown, and Vince and Willie 
told their man, Joe, a good old darkey, to commence 
preparing supper, and to fix enough of it. We sat 
around talking for a while, when Vince proposed 
that while Joe was fixing up the supper we should 
go right down the street to where he laiew a fellow 
had something to drink. These boys were located 
near the town — in fact, at the head of a street. We 
pulled out, and in a few minutes Vince laiocked on 
a door on the street. Almost instantly the door was 
opened, and in all five of us went. There was a 
long counter on one side of the house. The old man 
had no lights except a tallow candle. We stepped 
up near the front and Vince called for the liquor. 
The old man set out a decanter with only about 
four drinks — when the old fellow filled up for the 
fifth man to get his — it was a half gallon decanter 
— then the last one of us poured his out, leav- 
ing the decanter full, except the one drink. 
We took our drink, and Vince asked how much. 
The old fellow said, "Ten dollars each," making 
fifty dollars for the treat. Vince gave him a one 
hundred dollar bill. He picked up his candle, going 
back to the end of the counter to his safe for the 
change; but in doing this he had left the decanter 
setting on the counter. I told Vince to walk back 
and get the change; we would walk out. I picked 
up the full decanter, and as we walked out the door 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Vince overtook us, and we all went out together. 
However, we saw the old fellow, as he came back, 
hold up his light to look after his liquor. On dis- 
covering it gone, he jumped across the counter, fol- 
lowing us. We were all in a dead run by this time. 
The old fellow was afraid to holler for police, as he 
was running what we now call a "blind tiger," but 
he followed us to the end of the street. When 
Vince picked up an old gun, and raising it, advanced 
on him, the old man then broke back as fast as he 
had come, leaving us with the liquor. We took 
another drink all around, when Joe told us to draw 
up, supper was ready. Joe had given us a good 
supper — hominy, fried bacon, biscuits and coffee — 
the best part of which was there was enough of it. 
We drank no more, for Vince and Willie asked us 
to carry some to Jim Hagood and Capt. Wood. 
They also told Joe to get us up some rations, and he 
put us up about a half of a side of bacon, about 
half a bushel of meal and some salt. We got back 
to our command some time about midnight, and it 
was not long before Jim Hagood had his boy. Crow, 
and Pat Wood his boy, Fred, making up a fire, and 
about two o'clock we had a supper. In the mean- 
time all the whiskey had disappeared. We all slept 
late next morning, and about eleven o'clock we had 
breakfast. We went back into the trenches and 
remained there some time, when we were taken 
across the James River to meet a demonstration 
being made there. 



95 



CHAPTER XII. 

It seems that our division (Fields'), especially 
our brigade, was selected and had ever been the 
troops to run from place to place. This I egotisti- 
cally claim was because we were good on the march, 
always getting there quickly, and then, after get- 
ting there, we could be always depended upon to 
meet the emergency. Hence, we were not in the 
trenches so continuously as some others. We, from 
now on, were mostly below Richmond, taking care 
of Richmond from that side, but occasionally we 
would run over and take a day or two in the 
trenches, where we would be again pulled out for 
across the James River. So, after about a week in 
the trenches on this occasion, we were taken over the 
river, as Grant seemed to be preparing to attack 
from that direction. We remained quietly, doing 
nothing but keeping out our pickets for several 
days. For these few days we took up regular camp 
duty, except drilling. At roll call in the mornings 
Morrison and Stewart hardly ever answered. This 
got to be such a regular thing on all occasions, even 
when we were called to move, that our orderly 
sergeant, A. P. Manville, became so completely dis- 
gusted (for you could see disgust depicted on his 
face) that it was determined between Perry 
Manville, Capt. Wood and Col. Hagood that Morri- 
son and Stewart should be assigned to me as my 

da 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

company, I to see after them exclusively, being 
exempt from all other duty, only go when they had 
to go, and to make them go. This might seem an 
easy assignment, but, take my word for it, it was 
the hardest job any poor fellow ever had. I would 
be up in the mornings before time, getting them up 
to be in time for roll call, and any other duties 
assigned them I would be notified and had to get 
them out for it. But Perry Manville, who was a 
brave, good fellow, would put them both on duty 
at the same time, thereby saving me extra duty. He 
saw and appreciated the hard task I had. After 
lying around here for perhaps a week or more 
watching and waiting we were ordered to "fall in." 
Our company was at this time on the left of the 
regiment, and I and my two men were on the 
extreme left, which, when marching left in front, put 
me and mine at the head next to the colonel. In start- 
ing out this time, when Col. Hagood rode up to his 
position, he turned to me and said, "Sergt. Mixson, 
load your gun immediately and take those two men 
in this fight or leave them dead on the wayside." I 
loaded up, telling these two what to expect from 
me (they had heard my orders). We started off. 
I kept them up pretty well, and when we formed 
our line of battle on the hill overlooking Deep 
Bottom I had them in ranks. We remained on this 
hill while our skirmish line were holding them back 
in the bottom, our skirmishers retreating slowly. 
Gen. Lee was dismounted near us, awaiting the 
time to order us to charge. When it looked like the 

97 
7— R. P. 



REMINISCENCES OF A. PRIVAl'E 

time had about come old Stewart got back pretty 
close to Gen. Lee, and, falling on his knees, said, 
"Let's all join in prayer," and he started off. He 
had hardly started good before the command was 
given, "Get to your places." Morrison went in 
ranks, but old man Stewart got louder. I called 
to him to get in. He got louder. I could not move 
him by calling, so I went up to him and, catching 
him by the shoulders, I pulled him back and almost 
had to drag him to his position. Lee looked on 
seemingly amused. 

Well, we made the charge, meeting the enemy in 
the bottom. Here we fought them for some time, 
but finally retired to our former position on the 
hills. I don't think I got either Morrison or Stew- 
art in this, but they were on hand when we got 
back on the hill. The enemy did not advance on us 
in our position, but fell back. We then went back 
and took up our quarters where we left the day 
before. Grant had failed here. 

We remained here, without anything happening, 
doing picket duty and putting more logs on our 
fortifications, for something like three weeks, when 
the Yankees took another notion to go into Rich- 
mond over this route. Our cavalry, down at the 
Darbytown Road, discovered them on the move. 
As soon as this was reported to us our long roll 
routed us, and by sunrise we were off to look into 
matters. We ran upon their picket line about ten 
o'clock, drove them back and found them stationed 
behind the works that we had built there in 1862. 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVAl^E 

We immediately charged these works, and took 
them with very little trouble, they giving way after 
a short fight. We followed them no further than 
the works we captured from them. By night we 
were back at our camps, not much worse off than 
when we went out. We again took up our regular 
routine of duties and had no more disturbance from 
this quarter. Everything remaining quiet over here, 
we were, about the last of September or first of 
October, taken back to Petersburg and again went 
into the trenches. We were placed where the "blow 
up" afterwards took place, and while we were here 
our engineers were counter-sinking shafts, endeavor- 
ing to discover where the enemy's mine struck our 
fortifications. The marksmen on the Yankee side 
had become very expert with both the rifle and 
mortars, and they were so accurate that mortar 
shells would frequently fall in our trenches. For 
the information of those who do not know about 
mortar shooting I will explain. The mortar gun is 
a short cannon, say eighteen inches long, working 
in a carriage on a pivot and so arranged as to be shot 
at any angle, even to straight up.' They had per- 
fected themselves so that they knew the exact eleva- 
tion to give the gun and the length of the fuse to 
explode it, as in many instances the cannon ball 
would fall in our trenches, and, exploding, would 
do much harm, and causing much confusion among 
us. Hence, it became necessary to keep a lookout, 
and when one of their guns was fired this "lookouf* 
would keep his eye on the ball going up and com- 

99 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

ing over, and if it looked as if it were coming into 
the trenches at a certain place we would crowd 
away from the place that it seemed like hitting, 
thereby making room for it to fall and burst with 
as little damage as we had time and room to make. 
On one occasion I was sitting with my back to 
the front of the trenches, flat down on the bottom 
of the trenches, with my oilcloth underneath me. 
I had my man Morrison as "lookout," who was 
laieeling down facing the front just at my side. I 
heard the report of a mortar and saw Morrison 
prick up his ears. Soon I saw him begin to get 
excited, and then he commenced to exclaim, "It's 
coming, it's coming, it's coming!" Knowing how 
scary he naturally was, I gave but little faith to 
him. His eyes, however, looked the size of saucers, 
and finally he fell over, exclaiming, "It's come," and 
the shell fell between my legs, my oilcloth keeping 
it from burying itself deep enough to retain it. 
There I was, a shell with a burning fuse, in between 
my legs. It was death to do nothing, death to run, 
not only for me, but for others. It was impossible 
to get away from the shell, and instinct told me to 
get the shell away from me and us. Without hav- 
ing time to think even, I arose with the shell in my 
hands and dumped it out of the trenches. I scarcely 
had time to squat down when it bursted. Being 
outside, no one was hurt. I will take occasion to 
say here that this was no act of bravery. It was an 
inspiration that caused me to do it, and I was the 
worst scared fellow you ever saw, even more scared 

100 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

than Morrison or Stewart at any time. It took me 
a day or two to recover from the fright I got. 

We remained in the trenches this time till about 
the first of November, when Grant again began to 
move around on the north side of the James. Then 
we were taken out and carried over, and it was well 
for us that it was so, for the day after we left the 
mine was sprung and many, very many, killed, and 
on the same ground we had been and just left. His- 
tory will tell you of this. I was not there. On 
the day before the mine was sprung the Yankees 
on the north side of the James had charged and 
taken Fort Harrison, which was being held by the 
militia from Virginia. And on the morning that 
the mine was sprung they made an assault on Fort 
Gilmore, which was three miles from Fort Harri- 
son, and garrisoned by veterans from Virginia. 

The assault was made to draw our forces from 
the trenches, hoping to get enough away to make the 
springing of the mine a success, and to draw our 
attention elsewhere. We left the trenches late in 
the afternoon, and, passing Fort Harrison, leaving 
it to the right, went on to Fort Gilmore. We 
marched all night, arriving near Fort Gilmore at 
daybreak, when we halted and were held as a 
reserve. The assault was made by negro troops, 
with white officers with pistols in their hands, forc- 
ing the negroes forward on pain of death. They 
made a creditable charge, a good many jumping in 
the ditch in front of the fort. One charge, however, 
satisfied them. About ten o'clock we went in and 

Ml 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

relieved the Virginians and remained there till after 
midnight, when we in turn were relieved and went 
down in front of Fort Harrison, arriving there 
just as day was breaking. On moving from Fort 
Gilmore to Fort Harrison, about three o'clock, 
before day, I took the company's canteens and went 
to a well we were passing and filled up. This got 
me some little behind, and going down the road to 
overtake our command a solitary horseman overtook 
me. I discovered at once it was Gen. Lee. He said, 
"What are you doing behind, my little fellow?" 
And when I told him I had stopped at the well just 
passed to fill the company's canteens he said, "Well, 
hurry and catch up; they will need you by day- 
light." When I did get up I told the boys we would 

have h by daylight, and told them that Gen. 

Lee had told me so. 

In front of Fort Harrison we took our position 
in an old ditch trench which had been thrown up 
there perhaps a couple of years. This was not 
more than eight hundred yards in front of the fort. 
The Yankees had been reinforcing all night, and 
when day broke they were well garrisoned, with 
negro troops mostly. We remained in this position, 
awaiting the signal gun, when the advance on the 
Fort would be made from two sides. Tige Ander- 
son's Georgians were to lead the charge on the 
front, supported by our brigade (Bratton's). Two 
other brigades were to attack the side. Capt. Wood's 
boy, Fred, brought in breakfast, and Capt. Wood, 
Eddie Bellinger and myself sat down to eat. Capt. 

102 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Wood hurried through, leaving Eddie and me. Then 
it was that Eddie said to me, "Frank, I will be 
killed this day. In an hour I will be a dead man." 
I told him if I felt that way I would go to Dr. 
Martin Bellinger, brigade surgeon, and be excused. 
He would not go. Just then the signal gun fired, 
and Tige Anderson, with his Georgians, led off, 
slowly at first. We were called to attention, and I 
missed Stewart. The negro boy, Fred, hearing me 
asking about him, said he had passed Mr. Stewart 
a mile back. I turned to Morrison and told him if 
he did not go this time I swear I would kill him. 
I intended to keep my eye on him. We were now 
ordered to advance. Anderson had started his 
charge, and as soon as we got straightened out, and 
after crossing the old ditch, we, too, charged. Now 
the Yankees were mowing Anderson down with 
grape and cannister, and we, being only a short 
distance behind, were getting the full benefit of 
every fire. I tell you, it was a grand sight to see 
our boy colonel. He was about the middle of the 
regiment, in front of it. We were at double quick. 
Jim Hagood kept his eyes on the fort, and when 
he saw smoke from a cannon, he would cry, 
"Down, First," at the same time falling flat himself. 
When the grape and cannister had passed over he 
was the first up, and in that commanding voice, 
"Up, and forward. First." This he repeated more 
than half a dozen times. Anderson had now gotten 
to within about forty yards of the fort, where the 
firing was so fierce, furious and fatal. His men lay 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

down. We kept on, and just before we reached 
them they commenced to holler to us to stop. 
Anderson was walking up and down, begging them 
to forward. Then he would curse them. About 
now Lieut. Best, of our company, said, "Frank, I 
am shot through the thigh." I told him to go back. 
He said no. Only a step or two and he was shot 
clear throiigh on the right side, the ball entering 
about the nipple. He now turned to go back, but 
just as he turned another ball hit him in the back, 
about an inch below where the other ball had come 
out, passing clear through, coming out where the 
other ball had entered. He now fell, and Sid 
Key, with another man with a litter, picked him 
up to take him off. As they raised him up another 
ball knocked off two of his toes, making four 
wounds for him. I think he is still alive — was a few 
years ago. When Lieut. Best fell we were passing 
through Anderson's Brigade. I heard Anderson, as 
a last incentive to his men, say, "Georgia, you don't 
intend to let South Carolina beat you." I jumped 
up and hollered out, "Hurrah for South Caro- 
lina." But just as I struck the ground a ball struck 
me, and an old Georgian, who was lying flat on his 
belly, looking over his shoulder back at us, saw it 

and heard me, and said, "Oh, yes, G d 

South Carolina, now." This made such an impres- 
sion on me that I have always believed that I would 
recognize that fellow's face wherever I saw it again. 
I was fortunately hit in the hand, breaking the 
knuckle of my forefinger on the left hand. I 

104 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

dropped my gun, and, running back to a pine, I got 
in behind it to examine how badly I was hurt, and 
when I discovered the bone shattered I pulled off 
my accoutrements, throwing them down, so I could 
have a good chance for running. Going only a short 
distance I heard the voice of Lieut. Col. Ben Kirk- 
land, and I pulled up to see what was the matter. 
He was standing over an officer of our regiment, a 
captain, cursing him for all kinds of coward, and 
told him if he did not get up and go on with his 
company he would wear him out with his sword. 
I saw him get up, then I lit out again. On getting 
back to where we had started, sitting there alone 
was Morrison, who told me that when Lieut. Best 
was hit he left. I went on a little back to where the 
field hospital was located (the field hospital is only 
to receive the wounded, staunch the blood of those 
who are likely to bleed to death, put them in an 
ambulance, sending them back to the general hos- 
pital) . While hanging around there I noticed some- 
one brought up on a litter, who, upon being put 
down, beckoned to me. I went up to him, failing 
at first to recognize him ; but upon close inspection I 
discovered Capt. Wood. He was shot directly below 
his nose, the ball passing back lodged in the back 
of his neck, knocking out his teeth and lodging 
them in his tongue. He was terribly disfigured at 
that time, but was operated on that night, they 
cutting out the ball from his neck, taking his teeth 
out of his tongue, etc. After the war he looked 



106 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

nearly as handsome as ever, and he was a handsome 
man. 

I went on down from the field hospital to the 
regiment, after they were driven back, and it was a 
poor sight, indeed — only ninety-three men were left 
in the entire regiment. Eddie Bellinger had fallen, 
leading the regiment in about thirty yards of the 
fort. When the colonel ordered the regiment to fall 
back he discovered his colors missing and saw them 
on the ground nearer the fort than he was. He ran 
up there and found Eddie dead with the colors 
gripped so hard that he had to pry his fingers open 
with his sword to get them away. This all hap- 
pened in thirty yards of the fort, in an open field. 
The Yankees were so amazed at Col. Hagood's 
action that they did not shoot on him while he was 
doing this gallant deed. Col. Hagood then called 
Jim Diamond, who was not wounded, and turned 
the colors over to him. He brought them out. Next 
day the Yankees sent over a flag of truce, asking 
the name of the gallant officer who had rescued the 
colors — they buried Eddie with military honors. 

I did not get my wound dressed until the day 
after the fight. That evening I went back to the 
general hospital. Dr. Wallace Bailey, from the 
Four Mile, our surgeon, glanced at it casually and 
told me he would cut off the finger when he had 
time — the surgeons were all busy that evening, all 
night and next day. Capt. Wood was operated oh 
during the night and looked badly next morning. 



106 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Many a poor fellow lost an arm or a leg out here. 
That night this hospital was cleaned up, all of us 
being loaded on boats and sent to the hospital in 
Richmond, reaching there some time about mid- 
night, and were immediately unloaded into a large 
kind of warehouse that had been prepared with 
cots, etc., for a kind of reception hospital. Here we 
were seen after by the ladies, our wounds dressed, 
and nourishment given us. Those who were not 
too badly wounded were sent on next day to the 
regular hospital. I did not let Dr. Bailey cut off 
my finger. / have it yet. 



107 



CHAPTER XIII. 

In the hospital at Richmond I was assigned to 
a ward that a Dr. Wilson, of Marion, S. C, was in 
charge of. This doctor seemed to take a liking to 
me from the start — I guess on account of my age 
and size. Some three or four days after my arrival 
there he told me the Examining Board would meet 
next day. This Board would look over the wounded 
and furlough those who would be disqualified long 
enough to go home, and he said he would put me on 
the list to go before this Board. My hopes were 
high and I could scarcely await the time with 
patience. But ten o'clock finally came, and the 
crowd began to gather. The Board met in a large 
one-room building, one door on the side, another on 
the end. The Board consisted of five members, the 
chairman of which was an old man. Their position 
in the room was in chairs towards the end, opposite 
the end door. They had a clerk, who had listed all 
names of those were applying. This clerk had a 
doorkeeper, and he would take off the list as he had 
them entered, call the name to his doorkeeper, who 
would extend the call and admit the man. After a 
long wait, my name was called and I went in fully 
confident that I would get a furlough. I was called 
over to where the doctors were sitting in a row, and 
the old doctor told me to show up. I readily did 
so, and when they saw^ that I was wounded in 

108 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

the hand, he, the old doctor, said, "Pass out." I 
can tell you, I was disappointed, and so was Dr. 
Wilson; but he consoled me with the information 
that the Board would meet again in a few days and 
to try them again. This I did with the same result, 
only this time they did not even condescend to look 
at my hand. In a few days they again met, and 
again I went before them. But this time they didn't 
even allow me to stop, but as I walked in one door 
the old doctor waved me out of the other. This I 
reported to Dr. Wilson. He told me they treated me 
this way because so many were shooting themselves 
in the hands and feet to get out of service even for 
a time. After getting this information I went over 
to the officers' hospital and got a certificate signed 
by Capt. Wood and Lieut. Best, and got Dr. Bel- 
linger, who came over to see how all his men were 
doing, to give me one, and then Col. Hagood sent 
his certificate to me. In the meantime, Dr. Wilson 
had told me to let my hand and arm lay so that the 
warm sun could shine through the glass on it. After 
doing this a couple of days my arm began to swell 
and turn red and the middle of my hand had become 
somewhat inflamed. So now I was fixed for the 
next meeting. 

The day soon came, and early in the morning Dr. 
Wilson called me to him and stuck a lancet in the 
middle of my hand, put cotton on it and wrapped 
it up, telling me not get out of the board room with- 
out showing all I had. ^Yhen I was called this 
time, as I walked in the door, the old doctor again 

109 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

waved me to the other door; but instead of obey- 
ing him I went over to them and asked that they 
look at my hand. They agreed, when I undid it 
and pulled off the cotton. It began to bleed. Then 
I pulled up my sleeve, showing them my red, 
swollen arm. After seeing this they consulted and 
told me they were sorry that it was so they could 
not furlough me. I certainly deserved it. I then 
went down in my breeches pocket and brought out 
those certificates, which I handed them. After 
reading these the old doctor said to his clerk, "Give 
him thirty days." I do believe Dr. Wilson was as 
much pleased as I was, and he got my papers for me 
and got me off that same night, making me twenty- 
four hours ahead. I left Richmond that night on a 
crowded train. I got a seat with a poor fellow who 
had just had his leg cut off, and I helped him on 
his way, getting him water, dividing my rations 
with him and at nearly all the stations home the 
women would be at the depots with something to eat 
for us wounded. I kept the old fellow in good 
shape up to Williston, where I left him. 

I was so accustomed to walking that I did not 
even ask anyone at Williston to send me home. It 
was only fourteen miles anyway, and I had no bag- 
gage of any kind, so I did not feel that I had much 
before me. I reached home in due time, and mother 
and my sisters all seemed mighty glad to see me. 
They had heard of the Fort Harrison fight and 
slaughter, and heard that we were in it; and had 
even heard of some of the killed and wounded, but 

110 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

had heard nothing from me and had decided that 
"no news is good news." Hence, they were not 
surprised to see me. 

After remaining home with my own people a few 
days I went up on the Four Mile to see Mr. and Mrs. 
Wilson, my other people. I remained there for 
about ten days when I went back home. It was not 
much longer now before my thirty days' would 
expire and I determined to be back to my command 
on time. When my sisters knew that I had been 
appointed a sergeant nothing would do but that 
they should put the stripes on my sleeves. I didn't 
care to have it done, but they put them on anyway. 

Well, the time came for me to go back, and when 
I got to Williston to take the train it seemed as if 
I had a wagon load of boxes filled with everything 
good to eat and clothes to wear. There was a box 
for Sid Key, Ed. Harley, Job Rountree, Jno. Wil- 
liams Canady, Darling Sprawls, Bill Kitchins, 
Mathias Hair, old man Walton Hair, Frank and 
Jno. Green, W. W. Woodward, Darius Ogden, and 
perhaps others whom I can't recall. Of course, I had 
one for myself. How I ever managed to get these to 
the camps I don't know, but they all did get there, 
and, it being not long till Christmas, old Company E 
had a regular "jollification." There were a few mem- 
bers of the company who did not live near me and 
did not get any box by me ; but, all the same, those 
who had divided with them, and the entire company 
fared well for a while. 



Ill 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

I found our command still below Richmond. I 
walked over from Richmond and struck the line up 
on the hill, and discovered that our brigade was 
down towards the left. I passed on down the line. 
Now, there were nice breastworks on the front, built 
out of logs. The quarters for the men were some of 
logs, some with logs covered with tents and some 
with tents only, situated in some one hundred 
yards in rear of the works. The space between the 
works and the quarters was used for a drill ground 
and a general street. Down this street I had to go. 
I had not gone far before some fellow cried out, 
"Here goes the dominecker sergeant," and in no 
time you could hear it for a mile ahead, "Here comes 
the dominecker sergeant." Then it was that I 
cursed myself for having on those stripes. I was not 
fit for duty for several weeks after getting back, 
but did take charge of my company^ however — ^Mor- 
rison and Stewart. 

Things about now were looking squally for our 
cause and a good many of our army were getting 
worn out and discouraged. The reports from 
Johnston's army made matters look more gloomy, 
and as time went on Sherman commenced his raid, 
going to Savannah and then turning up and enter- 
ing South Carolina. Our men with families at 
home, who were being left homeless and in a starv- 
ing condition, were very much disheartened and dis- 
couraged. Some desertions were made. I remember 
among the first was a man named Mack, from 
Orangeburg. He had heard very distressing news 

112 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

from his wife and children, and, failing to get a fur- 
lough, he determined to go to them. He was 
brought back, tried by courtmartial, convicted and 
sentenced to be shot. I can never forget that day. 
The entire corps Avas turned out in a large open 
field and formed in a hollow square. Twelve men 
from our regiment were drawn on the shooting 
detail. I was the sergeant on the detail. My duty 
was to have these twelve men march out twenty 
paces from the stake erected where the man Mack 
was to be placed. When reaching this position I 
had the twelve men stack their arms, then I moved 
them back out of sight and turned them over to 
Lieut. Southern, who was in 'charge of them for the 
execution. I then went back to the stacked arms 
and loaded the guns, putting blank cartridges in 
six and loaded cartridges in six, and restacking 
them. 

Then in this square a wagon drove in. On this 
wagon was Mack, sitting on his cofiin. On each 
side of the wagon was a guard ; in rear of the wagon 
was the band. This procession started off at one 
end of the hollow square; moving to the right, the 
band playing the death march. They went all 
round the entire square, giving each and every man 
a good opportunity of viewing it. At last they 
arrived at the other end of the square, when Mack, 
without assistance, got off the wagon and walked to 
the stake. The coffin was placed just in rear; then 
Mack was asked to kneel down with his back to 
the stake, and he was tied to it with a plow line. He 

113 

8— R. F ' 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

was blindfolded. Now Lieut. Southern, with his 
twelve men, was seen to enter the square at a quick 
step and was halted at the stacked arms. Lieut. 
Southern gave the command, as follows: "Atten- 
tion, detail. Take arms. Carry arms. Ready — aim 
— fire!" At the report of the twelve guns poor 
Mack's head fell on his chest — he was a dead man. 
Lieut. Southern immediately moved his men ojQP, so 
that they would see as little of it as possible, taking 
them back, disbanded them to their different com- 
mands. This ended the first and last lesson we ever 
got for desertion. It was hard to see, but such had 
to be, else our officers, from poor Mack's captain, his 
colonel, brigadier general, up to the Christian sol- 
dier, Bob Lee, would never have allowed it. 



114 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Some little time after this I was the sergeant on 
the picket line. The enemy's line of picket was 
some four hundred yards off, but in fair view. At 
midnight I sent William Dyches, a private from 
Company E, to relieve the vidette and to remain as 
vidette till day began to break, then to come back 
to our picket line. Just as day had fairly broken 
and Dyches had not come in I took a look for him, 
and was surprised to see him nearly over to the 
Yankees. I took a shot at him, but missed him. 
A Yankee then hollered over to me, saying, "Say, 
Johnny, we've got one of your small potatoes." I 

replied, "D d small, but few in a hill." Dyches 

had always been a very good soldier — had never 
shirked duty and was ever there in a fight. He was 
from the section of Barnwell district, now x^iken 
county, known as Cracker's Neck, near the Upper 
Three Runs. Dyches did not reach home until after 
we all had surrendered and tramped from Appo- 
mattox home. We never went back to the trenches 
after the charge on Fort Harrison ; remaining, how- 
ever, below Richmond until the night of April 1st, 
when we abandoned out quarters, gave up our 
breastworks and took our march for Richmond. 
We reached Richmond after midnight and every- 
thing was in confusion and uproar — the city was on 
fire in more than one place. Soldiers on horse and 

115 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

on foot were going in every direction — old men and 
women and children were on the streets weeping; 
all that, together with the heavy firing we could 
hear at Petersburg, told us that Richmond was gone 
— Richmond, the goal that Grant had striven so 
hard for and for which he had sacrificed so many 
lives, would be his at last. In passing through 
Richmond I lost both Morrison and Stewart — they 
escaped me in the confusion. 

We went on through Richmond, giving it up to 
the Yankees who entered just behind us, and just 
before noon we reached Petersburg. Here we found 
our troops hardly pressed. We were placed in posi- 
tion some four or five hundred yards below the 
bridge which spanned the Appomattox River, with 
orders to hold the bridge, as it was the only escape 
our whole army had, and to lose this we were cap- 
tured. We held the advancing enemy all the after- 
noon until late into the night after our army had 
crossed. We were drawn off and crossed over, then, 
pouring oil on the bridge, set fire to it. After seeing 
it in flames we took up our march as rear guard to 
Lee's army on that ever-to-be-remembered six days' 
march, and every hour a fight to Appomattox. 

I don't know how to tell of this march. Things 
happened so fast and we were pressed so hard that 
we were at one place for only a few minutes and 
then at another. In a fight here, holding the enemy 
back long enough for our troops to cross a stream, 
or even a narrow place in the road, then we were 
gone. I know at Farmville we had a good, stiff 

116 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

fight, holding the enemy back while our troops 
crossed the bridge, and at one time it seemed that 
they would cut us off. Some of our troops waded 
the creek, neck deep. After passing this place just 
on top of the hill we found our quartermaster and 
commissary wagons deserted and afire. Just a little 
further on we stopped to blow, and I made up a 
fire and beat up some batter, put a flap- jack in the 
frying pan. Just as it was ready to turn over we 
were ordered to make a quick charge. I grabbed 
my frying pan, flap- jack and all, and went into the 
charge. We drove the Yankees back, and, getting 
back to my fire, I finished cooking my flap- jack, and 
it ate right well. 

For six days and six nights we did not stop for 
sleep nor for rest longer than ten minutes, but those 
ten minutes were used for sleep. It was a fight and 
a run the whole time. I saw men — and I did the 
thing myself — go to sleep walking along. Two days 
before reaching Appomattox Frank Green slipped 
out on the side, to see if he could get something to 
eat. He got off some half mile and had succeeded 
in getting a half middling of bacon from an old 
woman. He stuck his bayonet through this and 
swung it on his shoulder and started out for us. He 
soon discovered that the Yankees' cavalry were 
between him and us. He therefore had to out- 
manoeuvre them some way. Being in any open 
country this was hard to do. Two of them soon 
spied him and went for him; but, after an hour or 
more, Frank came in with his hacon^ too. Along 

»— R. P. 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

about now I was again barefoot. I had not had 
an opportunity to run upon any dead Yankees, as 
we were doing the running these times. So I com- 
menced looking around for a pair of shoes some- 
where. I soon discovered that Sid Key had a pair 
of number sixes hung onto his belt. Sid wore about 
tens. I bartered him for a trade. He was willing 
to sell, but he wanted cash. However, he let me 
have them on credit, with the understanding that I 
would pay him after the next fight if I got anything 
from a dead Yankee. We never got into another 
fight where we held the -field^ consequently, I never 
had a chance at a dead Yankee; and I owe Sid for 
those shoes yet ! 

On the morning of April 9th, 1865, we were 
halted in a field. Firing was going on down on the 
front. We had not long stopped when we noticed 
that the firing on the front had ceased. We were 
lying down on each side of the road. Presently we 
saw two men galloping up the road. On reaching 
us we discovered one to be one of our general's staff 
officers, the other to be a Yankee officer. Right then 
there was excitement. We knew something was 
wrong, but what was it ? Sleep and exhaustion had 
gone; everybody was up, stirring around and won- 
dering. We Avere held here in this position and 
under this strain for over three hours, when the 
report got started that Lee had surrendered. Very 
shortly after we heard this we saw a crowd of 
horsemen coming up the road. We soon recognized 
Gen. Lee among them. Every man got on his feet, 

118 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

and we commenced yelling for Lee. The old man 
pulled off his hat, and, with tears streaming down 
his cheeks, without a word, he rode through us. Lee 
was not the only one shedding tears— old men who 
had wives, sons, daughters, even grandchildren at 
home; middle aged men who had families at home; 
younger men who had left a young wife, and young 
fellows like myself— all were bowing their heads 
with tears; but no thought of censure; no criticism 
of Gen. Lee, ever entered the minds of any of us. 
We knew he had done for the best and we had more 
confidence in him, as he rode through us that day, 
than we ever had before, and we loved him more. 
We knew how humiliated he felt, and, knowing 
this, we were anxious to make him feel that we 
recognized that he had done right, and our con- 
fidence and love for him, instead of being shaken, 
had been increased. He was certainly now more 
of an idol than ever before. 

That afternoon we were taken into the oak grove 
and put in the Bull Pen, as we called it. This was 
only going into bivouac with a guard around us, 
hut not a Yankee guard. We could not have sub- 
mitted to that had that been attempted; the last 
one would have been knocked out during the night. 
But we had our own men for our guards. We were 
not allowed out of our lines, nor were any Yankees 
allowed to come in; but they hung around and 
seemed surprised that they had such a hard time in 
overwhelming such a crowd of rag-a-muffins, and so 
few of them. 

119 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

On being put into the Bull Pen it so happened, 
and we immediately discovered, there was in our 
regimental lines a large barn pretty well filled with 
ears of corn. We were soon scrambling for this 
and men could be seen going in all directions with 
an armful of this corn. It looked exactly like each 
man was going to feed a horse. It was well for us 
that we struck this luck, for we had nothing to eat; 
and when there is nothing better, parched corn goes 
mighty good. We now filled up on our parched 
corn and by good dark everybody seemed to be 
asleep — the first sleep we had for seven days and 
nights, since we left Richmond. We awoke the next 
morning, and, after taking our breakfast (parched 
corn again and water), we felt very much refreshed, 
after a night of sleep and rest. We would hang 
around our lines, seeing anything that might take 
place. During the morning Gen. Lee, accompanied 
by Gen. Meade and staff, rode around. I suppose 
Gen. Lee was showing Gen. Meade how few men 
he had surrendered him and the condition they were 
in. On passing by us we began to cheer and yell. 
Meade turned to his color bearer, who had his head- 
quarters' flag rolled up, and said, "Unfurl that 
flag." This he did, when an old, ragged, half- 
starved, worn-out Confederate soldier in our lines 

cried out, "D n you old rag. We are cheering 

Gen. Lee." This old fellow, like the balance of us, 
was no more whipped, penned up here in the Bull 
Pen, overpowered by at least ten to one, starved, 
naked, broken down, than he was at the Wilderness, 

120 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor or the nine months in 
the trenches and below Richmond. We were not 
whipped, and we never felt whipped; but felt like 
men who had done their duty in every emergency, 
and now, while we were forced to give up the strug- 
gle, it was only to overwhelming odds and resources. 
But we were yet men and men, too, who were 
entitled to and would get the admiration of the 
entire world. We knew we deserved this, and, 
knowing it, we held up our heads, not ashamed to 
look our victors straight in the eye. And they^ the 
Yankees^ acted with much consideration, and like 
good soldiers, and good Americans can only act, 
did not show that exultation they must have felt. 
While they seemed to feel proud, of course, at the 
result, yet we had their sympathy and good will. 

This was April 10. We remained in our lines the 
entire day. To this we did not object, as we needed 
the rest, and, besides, we did not care to move 
around much. Again, we had a good night's sleep 
and parched corn enough to eat. Early on the 
morning of the 11th it became known that we were 
to be taken out and surrender our arms, ammuni- 
tion and everything else. We were, however, 
allowed to retain our side arms and blankets. The 
side arms consisted of, with the officer, his sword 
and pistol ; with the private, his haversack, canteen 
and little hand axe, the axe that we wore stuck in 
our belts and which had been of so much service to 
us in building log breastworks at the Wilderness, 
Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor, Petersburg and below 

121 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Richmond. We noticed in the morning, say ten 
o'clock, the Yankee columns moving down to Appo- 
mattox Court House. At noon our drums beat for 
us to fall in. In a short time we were again in 
ranks. Lee's army was now moving down the road 
towards Appomattox Court House, every man 
fully armed, cartridge boxes full and the men well 
rested. We knew we were being taken to stack and 
give up those arms which had been a part of us for 
four long years ; but we did not lag or skulk. Had 
Gen. Lee, then and there, ridden out and said, 
"Boys, there are the enemy, go for them," there 
would have been no man to question it; we would 
have broken through, no matter the odds. But we 
marched up in front of them, where they were 
formed in line of battle, with our heads up, showing 
them that a soldier knows how to die. We were 
stopped and made to face them, and then, for the 
last time, we heard our boy colonel, Jim Hagood, 
•give the command, "First South Carolina, order 
arms, fix bayonets, stack arms, unbuckle accoutre- 
ments, hang up accoutrements." When this was 
completed we heard again his command, "First 
Regiment, attention. Right face, file right, march." 
The deed was done. Now we were truly prisoners — 
nothing with which to protect us from either danger 
or insult. We were carried back from whence we 
came, and we took up our quarters as before. We 
suffered no insult in any way from any of our ene- 
mies. No other army in the world would have been 
so considerate of a foe that it had taken so long, so 

122 






Our Boy Colonel. 



JAMES R. HAGOOD, 

Colonel of (IIagood's) First S. C. Rb:giment of Volunteer 
Infantry, C. S. Army. 

Of him General Lee wrote as follows: "It gives me 
pleasure to state that Col. J. R. Hagood, during the whole 
term of his connection with the Army of Northern Virginia, 
was conspicuous for gallantry, efficiency and good conduct. 
By his merit constantly exhibited, he rose from a private in 
his regiment to its command, and showed by his actions that 
he was worthy of the position. 

(Signed) R. E. Lee. 

Lexington, \'a.. 25th March, 18C8. 

J. R. Hagood volunteered as a private in the above named 
regiment, just before its departure to Virginia, in the sum- 
mer of 1862, under the command of Col. Thomas Glover, who 
had succeeded Johnson Hagood to the colonelcy of the regi- 
ment upon the latter's promotion to brigadier-general. 

J. R. Hagood was promoted sergeant-major of the regiment 
August, 1862. He was promoted adjutant of the regiment 
November 16th, 1862. He was promoted captain of Com- 
pany K January, 1863. He was promoted colonel of the 
regiment on 16th of November, 1863. His commission being 
dated within ten days of his nineteenth birthday, he was 
doubtless the youngest colonel commanding a regiment in 
the Confederate Army, 

This rapid promotion came to him while serving in and 
forming a part of "that incomparable infantry which bore 
upon its bayonets the failing fortune of the Confederacy for 
four long and bloody years." He surrendered at Appomat- 
tox, with Lee's Army, having participated in nineteen battles 
in which at least 20,000 men were engaged. 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

much privation, so much sacrifice of human life, to 
overwhelm. Gen. Grant had acted nobly towards 
Gen. Lee. His men acted considerately towards us. 

That evening Col. Hagood got enough paroles for 
the men of his regiment, but did not give them out. 
The next day, April 12, Col. Hagood, having 
decided to try the scheme of keeping us together, 
started the tramp for home. Early in the morning 
the Yankees had sent us over some beef, and upon 
dividing this out each man got one-fourth of a 
pound. This was the only rations we had issued to 
us during the time we were in the Bull Pen ; but, in 
justice to the enemy, I must say that they, too, had 
not had anything issued them. 

I guess we had traveled so fast and furiously that 
their wagon could not keep up. Here we were, 
six hundred miles away from home, not a cent in 
our pockets, and only one-fourth of a pound of raw 
beef. Can a more deplorable picture be drawn? 
Col. Hagood marched us off, keeping us pretty well 
together till night coming on we stopped. We had 
traveled about twenty miles towards home this day. 
After stopping for the night Col. Hagood called on 
the few officers present to meet him, when he 
explained that we had no money nor had we author- 
ity to confiscate something to eat. The men now 
had nothing and hadn't had for over ten days. He 
had thought it best to keep them together as long 
as possible, and now he had gotten them some 
twenty miles awaj^ from the Yankee army, he saw 
no other alternative but to give each man his parole 

123 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

and turn him loose to get home the best he could. 
He was satisfied this was the best course. All the 
officers present agreed with him, and that night each 
orderly sergeant was given the number of paroles to 
be filled out, inserting the man's name. By mid- 
night Orderly Sergeant A. P. Manville and myself 
had them all ready for Company E, and early next 
morning Sergt. Manville called up the company 
and gave to each man his parole. Then, with tears 
in our eyes, we bade each other good-bye, and took 
our course for our desolated homes in old BarnweU 
District. 



124 



CHAPTER XV. 

Jim Diamond and I did as we had always done — 
joined our fortunes — and taking a kind of byway 
we soon were away from any soldiers. We consid- 
ered it so much better to leave the highways and 
public roads, as on the private ways we would stand 
a much better chance to get something to eat. We 
found this plan to work very well, and during the 
whole distance and time we took to get home we 
never went hungry. At times we would strike a 
highway for a short distance when we would run 
upon a lot of fellows tramping for their homes, 
some of whom had to go so far as Texas. How they 
ever lasted that long and held out to make such a 
distance I can't conceive. 

We would generally stop at nearly every house we 
passed and beg for something to eat, or for milk or 
buttermilk; and there being only two of us, we were 
hardly ever refused, consequently, we never wanted. 
After so long a time we were in the neighborhood 
of Danville, Va. We concluded to go by and take 
in the place and see what was going on there. We 
reached Danville early in the morning and found 
an immense crowd — it seemed that all of us had 
taken in the place. Not long after we reached the 
city we determined to charge a store in which there 
were some government goods, and a big crowd soon 
gathered. It did not take long to batter down the 

125 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

doors and get in. Then the scramble began. There 
were bacon, meal, molasses, clothes, blankets and 
everything else. The way the men got the molasses 
was by knocking out the head of the hogshead and 
dipping in their canteens. In one instance the pres- 
sure around a hogshead was so great that one fellow 
next to the barrel, being pressed so tight, was raised 
off his feet; but he deliberately stepped over into 
the barrel, standing up in the molasses to his waist. 
He filled his canteen and then crowled out. 

Jim and I got in this raid a small piece of bacon, 
some meal, a couple of army blankets and a Mc- 
Clelland saddle. We then went on down town to 
the depot and found a train of cars standing on the 
track headed southwards. The engine was fired 
up and every available space, inside and outside and 
on top, was taken, and all that was necessary to move 
off was an engineer. Just away from where this 
train stood was a magazine, filled with all manner 
of explosive missiles. In some manner this maga- 
zine caught and soon the explosion occurred and 
pieces of shells were flying in every direction. Then 
those who were on the train began to get away — 
some even jumping through the car windows, others 
from the top. While this was at its worst a Texan 
jumped on the engine and cried out, "I am an 
engineer; I can run it. Give me a fireman." 
Immediately someone answered his call. In the 
meantime, as the others jumped off, making room, 
Jim and I got on, and our Texas engineer pulled out 
amid the confusion from the live magazine. 

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Whether he knew much about handling an engine 
or not, he did certainly let it run, stopping for no 
place nor for nothing, until just before reaching 
Salisbury, N. C, an axle to the tender broke. This, 
of course, put an end to our ride. Deserting the 
train, leaving it on the track, we again pulled out 
afoot. We had, however, made a good many miles, 
which did us much good. In due course of time 
we struck the neighborhood of Charlotte, N. C, 
and desired to "take in" that city, too, for we 
wanted to see and hear what might be going on in 
the world, we having confined all our movements to 
country roads and country houses. We went into 
Charlotte, and, having our haversacks well filled, 
we were in no hurry. We loafed around the town 
taking in the sights. Here again we met a large 
crowd of Lee's paroled men, and here again we 
made a raid on some government stores. But as we 
had plenty to eat we didn't take much hand in it. 
However, we got a bolt of real good jeans — about 
all we did get. 

Jim had traded his saddle before reaching Char- 
lotte, consequently, we were not hampered with 
carrying that. We left the city before dark and 
continued our course south, regardless of where we 
would strike next. Sometimes we had to go some 
distance to get a ferry across a river, and in one or 
two instances a farmer would take us over in his 
batteau. We were faring right well, and, as neither 
of us had a wife and children awaiting our coming, 
we did not push hard after leaving Charlotte. The 

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next town I recollect passing through was New- 
berry. We heard of the assassination of President 
Lincoln at Charlotte. On reaching Newberry early 
in the morning we were the wonder of the town. 
They had not heard of the surrender of Lee nor of 
Lincoln's death. It seemed as if the town turned 
out to see us. 

We stopped here only long enough for Jim to get 
a shave, the barber doing it for nothing. We slept 
in a farmer's barn that night about eight miles from 
Newberry. This farmer gave us supper and next 
morning breakfast. And we went on our way 
rejoicing. Our next stop was at a farmer's house 
in now Saluda County — Mr. Ready — on the Colum- 
bia and Augusta Railroad. He was an old bachelor 
and made us come in his house, giving us supper, 
bed and breakfast, and an early start the next morn- 
ing. Besides, he gave us directions how to get to Pine 
Log Bridge, across the Edisto River. We crossed 
the Edisto in the afternoon and took that big old 
sandy road for White Pond. Reaching that place, 
just before sundown, we went on our way, and 
between sundown and dark we stopped at a little 
log cabin, asking for something to eat and telling 
the lady, Mrs. Beach, that we would sleep in the 
pines. This she would not consent to, but made us 
walk in, prepared supper, made us down a pallet in 
front of the fire. Before going to bed she told us 
her husband was a soldier, too, belonging to Lamar's 
Second South Carolina Artillery, with Johnston's 



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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

Army. She had not heard from him since they left 
Charleston. Beach did get home all right. 

Next morning she was up bright and early and 
gave us breakfast and Godspeed. It was now only a 
few miles before we would reach the forks of the 
road where Jim and I would part, he going to Barn- 
well and I to Joyce's Branch, ten miles above Barn- 
well. The nearer we reached this fork of the road 
the more serious we would become. We had eaten 
and slept together for nearly three years — had 
shared privations together, and in prosperity we 
divided with each other; and now, we were on the 
verge of parting, perhaps never to see each other 
again. We had been passing the burnt houses, done 
by Sherman in his march, and we did not know 
what we might find at our homes ; but we well knew 
there were hard times ahead of us. At last, we 
arrived at the parting place, and, by common 
instinct, we determined to make the parting short. 
Jim took the bolt of jeans from his shoulders, where 
he had it slung, told me to pull it out, and then, 
doubling it in the middle, cut it in two. This was 
all. Without saying a word more, we shook hands 
and turned off quickly. Jim had about twelve miles 
to Barnwell; I about ten to Joyce's Branch. I 
reached home just as they had finished dinner. They, 
too, had not heard of Lee's surrender. They hunted 
me up some old clothes, sent me to an outhouse to 
wash and clean up, and then buried my suit of Con- 
federate gray, as that was the best thing to do with 
it. I was very much gratified to find that Sher- 

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REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

man's raiders had not gotten as high up as our 
place. The nearest they came, however, was only 
one and a half miles off towards Barnwell. I found 
that none of our negroes had run off, but all were 
at home making a crop, and mother had a good 
supply of "hog and hominy." 

There were, however, about a dozen cases of 
smallpox on the place, left by some straggler, the 
most of which was among the negroes. I was not 
afraid of it, having been well vaccinated while 
below Richmond, and I did not hesitate to go right 
in to it and help all those who had it, both white and 
black. It was but a few days before my sisters had 
me a real nice suit of clothes, made from the jeans 
we had raided at Charlotte and divided at the forks 
of the road. The first time I went to Barnwell I 
saw Jim Diamond in his suit made from the other 
part. 

Now, the war is over, and we are again civilians. 
My reminiscences of a private are at an end. There 
are things I should have written in these had they 
occurred to me at the right time, and perhaps there 
are things that might have been left out. But when 
I would take my seat to write I did not know what 
I intended saying. It seemed to come to me by 
inspiration, and I would just write as fast as pencil 
could go. I will have to ask the public to be charit- 
able in reading this. Recollect, I went into the war 
a mere country boy, fourteen and a half years old, 
and returned to a ruined, desolate and impoverished 
country at eighteen years and six months old. 

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